#he is too old to be teaching anybody
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gothixm00nz · 2 years ago
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so i have been rewriting all of the episodes in mbav to include not only my oc but my absolute batshit insane dmc/mbav crossover because... who's gonna stop me?
anyways, it's totally fucking insane. i've had a few friends of mine proofread the things i have written and the consensus is that somehow dmc and mbav work really well together??? like unnecessarily well. maybe it's the way i write it but it's likely because nobody can deny how fucking insanely amazing dmc is.
the only thing my friends agree upon is a lil strange is that i still have v in the storyline like...? yeah. girl, i am not killing off one of the best characters in dmc5. he's just a whole new man... kind of. same body, but now he's not a part of vergil anymore bc vergil is whole. it's just v's/vergil's personality and memories, but other than that he's legitimately his own person now with free fucking will.
justice for v. fuck you andie for denying my mans.
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nomairuins · 2 months ago
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read asoue to weeman as a bedtime story he liked it YAYYYY
#i set up a oneblock mc workd 4 him bc hes been obsessed w them#took me a while bc im an idiot FJFBFNN but i got it. nd he was having fun but itsba school night#but he was in my room playing so eventually i convinced him to turn off mc (meryl my computer came in with an assist (battery low warning so#i could say I think meryl is getting tired....)) so then he helped me turn it off but was still so sad#so i offered for him to stay cozy in my room 4 awhile and we sat together and then i said we could read a story together#so he read his favorite book 2 me (not a box if anybody is curious) and then i relized my copies of asoue r in storage at current moment#Which was the bummer. but i checked out the ebook from my library in wa YAYY I LOVE LIBRARIES#so i was reading that to him :] and he was super into it asking me abt words i didnt know he even asked me Why is his last name snicket...#as if the name lemony isnt weirder NRNTJFNhes funny#but ya. and he was asking me questions abt the story (How did that fire start.... Maybe they left the oven on too long 😥😥😥) but he was#rly into it... i was a bit worried itd be a bit too sad 4 him But i underestimated him . he was very sad when their parents died but very#invested. we got abt midway through chapter 4 (klaus had just said the thing abt olaf only giving them one bed) and then he started#fake snoring. so i carried him to his room and then unfortunately he noticed that his phone was charged so he decided to play on that a bit#before bed . sigh . I did my best#nd then i told my mom and she had the gall to be like Sigh when i said he grabbed his ohone and its like. Well thatis bc you gave him a#phone to play on and whenever you dont feel like listening to him when he wants to tell you things you distract him with any screen in reach#like. yk. itis entirely your alls fault. and i feel bad#hes such a sweet kid and yes he does have a tendency to talk a lot bc hes . an autistic 6 year old who loves a lot of things and is excited#to share. yk. but most everyone just ignores him and i feel bad...#i try my best to listen sometimes i have trouble following but like. yk.#and a lot of the stuff is abt whatever youtubers hes watching which. sigh. but whtevr#idk. i worry abt him having a phone with internet access like. hes only got kids youtube and stuff but. well i dont love kids having access#to the internet so young <- guy who was doing erp with strangers online at age 7.#but. waghhhhhhfhfhrbfufbfjr. wtvr#anyways. im glad he liked the story at least im hoping i can get him into reading more#he likes reading but im gonna ask my mom if i can get all my books out of storage#theyre like. hes still quite young for most of them but ive got some old junie b jones#and i think tag would like a lot of them as well ... neither of them read a lot it makes me sad but its. understandable. my parents didnt#teach tag to read like at all and they still struggle with it#so i cannot blame them. but i think the books i liked at their age r things theyd like so ! yk.
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tbaluver · 3 months ago
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Can you write the guys reaction to having a baby girl as their first child? (I'm a sucker for papa's little princesses)
Thank you and your works are the best and comforting!
Papa's Little Princess- The Love And DeepSpace Men
synopsis: when your first child is a girl! genre: fluff fluff a/n: omg this was such a cute idea i wish they were real (╥﹏╥) and thank you so much! i hope my works can continuing being comforting for you and anybody else <3 i hope this was okay and that you enjoy this! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
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Xavier:
His little star
A gentle father. He's the type to never yell at his daughter but he'll provide positive disciplining strategies with you.
He wants to be in every part of his daughter's life in any way he can. He wouldn't really know how to do his daughter's hair but he was willing to try ! He would watch you tie her hair, braid, and put many accessories in her hair and he would be confused on how you did all that. He tried looking up how to do her hair and his first time wasn't the best.....but after some practice with you, he would be a pro just like you!
Do NOT let these two bake together especially with the easy bake ovens. Nearly set the kitchen on fire attempting to make cookies for you. He couldn't say no to her when she wanted to cook or try baking with him. You don't know how but it ended up burnt or with the weirdest toppings ever and a broken easy bake oven.
Nap time is serious business with these two. They are not to be disturbed. She's either asleep on his chest or in his lap. Whenever you take walks and she gets too tired, he'll carry her around on his back. She'll rest her head on the crook of his neck while he holds onto her tightly.
She would have all the plushies, toys, and snacks she wants! He'll do his all to get her the plushies in the claw machine to make his little angel jump up and down in joy. She could never have enough
Loves to join her in her imaginative play whether she wants to be a princess or an astronaut. It makes playtime full of joy and adventure
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Zayne:
You two would have the most polite, well mannered, and kindest daughter ever.
Loves to participate in playing house with her. He'll sit on the floor or the tiny chairs from the tea party set you gotten for her. He'll play the role with no complaints and tell her that the tea is delicious even though there is absolutely no tea in the plastic cup.
He's a doctor but he can't help but sneak a few sweet treats for her. If she wants some before lunch or dinner then she can have at least one before she eats her meal and then she'll have plenty more after. These two would have cavities later on.
He would make her all the mini snowmen and other things she wants from his evol. He finds her reaction to be adorable each time, it never gets old.
If your daughter mentions a boy, he would tell her she can have a boyfriend around 30. She would be happy and so was he. Mainly because she has no concept of time and age yet.
Your daughter loves to hear him read. Even though she was still very very young and didn't grasp everything just yet, he would read her stories and explain them with care and patience, aiming to entertain and nurture her curiosity. She loves to sit on his lap and sometimes she'll fall asleep on him.
He would let her pick any flower she wants to grow in your garden at the backyard. You would all start a small garden together and he would teach her how to care for them.
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Rafayel:
Takes playing house a little too seriously. Whatever role his daughter gives him, he's giving it his all.
Oh he was so excited when your daughter first held a crayon. He colors with her a lot and eventually will introduce her to paint. He would tell her that she's doing so well even if they were just blobs. She's going to be an artist just like her papa. He'll even add some of her artwork on his so he can point it out to her if he were to have another exhibition tour.
First time at the beach with his daughter was such an emotional day for him. Hearing and seeing her squeal when her little feet touched the water warmed his heart. He held her so tightly and tenderly, reassuring her that she won't float away because her papa's got her. He teaches her a lot about how some fishes are friendly and one day he'll meet some of his fish friends.
He'll eventually tell her all about Lemuria whenever it was time for bed and he thought it's so cute whenever she wanted to hear more about it.
Would absolutely love to play dress up with her. Sometimes he'll pick some of her clothes out and he would think she is beautiful just like her mama. They'll make a little runway and model the outfits.
He would keep all the little milestones she has made and any memories. He'll keep all the photos, drawings, and any mementos to look back at the treasured memories.
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Sylus:
The second person who will ever see his soft side is his daughter. You being the first.
He is protective over his daughter and with you. If anyone were to look at either one of you wrong? Sleep with one eye open.
He does not have fragile masculinity! He will let her apply as much toy makeup as she wants on his face. He'll play dress up with her as much as she wants no matter how obscure the outfits are! He has no complaints, anything to make his little angel smile and happy.
She loves hearing him sing lullabies. It puts her to sleep immediately but sometimes she'll sing or hum along with him.
If you tell your daughter no to something then she'll ask Sylus. He can't say no to his sweet baby girl. Just don't tell mom. He doesn't know what true fear is until he meets a mothers anger.
Loves to spoil her just like how he loves to spoil you. Not to the point where she's a brat though, you two would teach her to be better than that. "Just because" gifts to make her feel special without any special occasions
Anytime he would be away for business, he'll always bring you two something back. Something that you both either love or reminds him of you two or maybe both.
BONUS (All): They would all be patient fathers overall. They would never yell if your daughter showed any emotions especially if their daughters were to cry. They’re offering their own patience, love, and comfort in their own way. They would be there for your daughter emotionally as they were with you.
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acid-ixx · 9 days ago
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do i look like him?
— just another series concept. please note that talia sexually assaulting bruce is retconned in whatever portrayal i have of her. i will not tolerate any racist or sexist remarks towards her character for a mischaracterized version of her, written by some gooner.
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
i don't know if anybody would be interested in a certain premise i'm planning. taylor's song, "like him" is resonating off of my body, and i've a draft written inspired off of the song featuring yandere batfam x damian's twin! reader x yandere! al ghul family.
wherein instead of being neglected, you're treated like royalty by your own family. your twin is subjected to the cruelty of being raised as an assassin. you're met with scarred hands, nicked back, and calloused skin every time he comes back from your shared room after another particularly harsh training. yet every time you worry for your older twin, he'd silence you with the same bloodied hands that handled bodies like ragdolls, gently like it has never killed, with hushed promises whispered by your ear that "this is necessary for your protection, akhi/akhti."
at first you'd be convinced that this family lifestyle is normal. your mother is doting, she is kind, she is where you learned the word mercy; unlike the fierce image she displays in public. you're often spoiled rotten with her favorite shades of clothes, and her teachings emanate within you a deep sense of loving for animals. you never truly see her cruelty for other humans, as she often makes you sit by her lap upon a seat you call a throne when you were all but a mere five year old, playing with your hair, muttering affirmations and cradling you on her chest every time you ponder too deeply about the word, 'father'.
a word you'd read from those fairytales by the library, a word you craved to know, a word forbidden to be stated by everybody within your castle-like home.
she'll call upon your brother every time your curiosity gets the best of you, and the duo would try their best to sway your attention away with playtime. either it'd be stories, or damian showing you new tricks he'd learn from masters long overthrown by your twin, or it would be as simple as talia dragging both her beloved children to the huge kitchen, demanding the head chefs to bake you and your brother's favorite dessert (a little moment to spoil your brother after a hard-earned day of training, even if damian isn't always fond of sweet confectionaries; your grin would always tempt him to take a bite of your food if it means spending a day being himself).
it seems even damian plays along with the sick fantasy of not acknowledging the possibility of an alive father figure to you. not like you'd be aware of it, too caught up with your grandfather teaching you about rare species' on the verge of extinction, his (rarely) soft gaze fixed on the way your small body would gently pat the face of his wolf companion, or your brother constantly vying for you, his younger twin's, attention, eliminating all possible rivals who could potentially act as your future playmate that only he has the privilege for, or how your mother seeks you, her youngest baby, out, for a day of rest after another mission, doting smooches on your face, her lipstick smearing all over the soft chub of your cheeks, dismissing your pouts
a perfect family, with not much left to desire for your part.
so why is it that talia would often hear damian complain about your sudden fixation about a father figure? you'd mumble, something about one of your servants who mentioned visiting her father for vacation, a man who works as a merchant for his family; you asked them what your father's job was, what his name was, "why isn't he here at the family dinner?"
you asked, with wide, pitiful eyes, a feature long foreign for hardened assassins, but associated only with you. a quality nobody in the league dares to criticize; your gentleness the only thing keeping their leaders sane, keeping most servants alive as you find precious each and every single living being; not exclusive to animals or plants, but to humans too.
you're the league's only hope for reprieve, for softness in the moments of emboldened duties and priorities. you're the fingers that caress on calloused skin and the lips that kiss bloody scars. the hearth that warms even the coldest of hearts.
which was why nobody attempted to answer you, no matter how much it breaks your heart; because nobody wanted to ruin your soft and kind heart, or see the sullen droop in your eyes, or red, sniffling nose.
yet once ra's heard the confession of you being aware of what a father is like through the mouth of your servant, he'd immediately demanded another assassin to eliminate whoever dared mentioned such preposterous concepts to his grandchild.
throughout their rage, throughout damian nuzzling his head on the crown of your, muttering that whatever his baby sibling is sputtering is nonsensical, mere fantasy, arms encasing your entire body. he'd cradle you, run his hands against your hair even with furrowed, always angered brows; all the same questions lingered in the back of their minds:
is your current family not enough? why is it that the more you grow, the more you... wear the same expression of stubbornness, a quality your mother is sure you've adopted from you... father.
she may not be the best mother, taking both you and damian away from the arms of bruce wayne after she had learned about her pregnancy after a night spent together with the man, but she did it for the sake of her children; for your future, too.
bruce wayne will not be a good influence to you. if he tries so much to subject you into becoming another one of his robins, destroying your innocence, your perception of the world into a bleak portrayal of lackluster colors— ra's wouldn't hesitate to destroy the entirety of bruce's home.
and the manor is nothing! nothing, mind you, compared to the castle you call your home. only you deserve the richest of the rich, the shiniest jewels and the best treatment in the world. what more can gotham offer you? what more, if not for broken bones and bruised knees?
and so they settled upon ruining your perception of your father, with no known face to be plastered upon your memory, no known source, or picture— at such an early age.
if you yearn so much for a father, why not paint the image as dark as the cowl he wears?
why don't they feed you lies about him never wanting you and your twin in the first place? you'll be given opportunities to call an empty line, hoping your father would pick up, would respond and tell you that he's coming for you. they'll give you time to write letters, even if it takes your crummy fingers hours to finish a dedicated letter for your father, after years of being unable to meet him; it causes all the more ache in your mother's chest, witnessing her beloved youngest stay up late, whispering whimsical wishes about how excited you are to read your father's reply to you.
all your mother could do was kiss your forehead as she sat by your side, and rub your delicate cheeks with her fingers, mumbling that her baby should sleep now.
your mother never lies to you, no?
at least, not outright in your face.
damian, hates seeing the heartbreak in your eyes, but he's the very same twin who comforts you every damn time you fall to your knees after discovering that the letters you sent to your father's locations were long since unanswered — even if they're all hidden away in a vault of every possession you thought you lost. he'll pick you up with his trained body, and you'll melt even further into his form, shivering at the prospect that you're an unwanted child in the face of your father.
soon.
soon, you'll learn to despise bruce with every being of your soul, and learn to only reserve the association of warmth for your only family. you'll be the spoiled royal of the al ghul, and you'll come to find yourself grateful that you're raised without his presence, deluded into thinking that he abandoned you, that he never truly cared in the first place.
you love your family, you hate bruce wayne.
he is not family.
he is not your father, he lost that status long ago right after you thought he'd ignore all your calls, your messages, letters, gifts, every and any signal sent to the man you once called your father right after learning his name. he made you hope, he left the light flicker once flickering within you now blown away, leaving only an empty husk of your wanting to meet your father.
you hate bruce, you hate him so fucking much, you're ashamed that he's even your father in the first place— even if he's the very same man working tirelessly, day and night, to save you, once he caught news of what his children looks like, and locks eyes with your hopeful ones, a rare sight amongst the imagery of assassin. he plans to retrieve you, to save you, from the castle you call your home; truly what you call your cage.
little did you know that you are more like your father than you are with what you call your family.
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— heavily inspired by @anxiousnerdwritings portrayal of twin!reader.
a/n: i honestly don't know half of what i wrote. i'm out of my mind, and i'm honestly not confident with the outcome of this concept. if people do like it (leave comments, or inputs, or whatsoever) i might post a chapter about this (since i do have one written in my drafts a week or two ago). if not, i'm dropping this and leaving it as a concept mostly, a one-time thing at best. so if anybody does like this, please do tell me. i do have a lot in store for this concept, specifically the way manipulation works within this family convincing you the other side is evil; i've been through this once w/ my family actually ngl, so writing this was a bit fun.
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zephyrchama · 5 months ago
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If MC was on a sports team in the human world, how frequently do you think the demon brothers would go to see their games? It probably couldn't be too often, so they'd have to make the most of each visit (unless they just... decide to stay in the human world for the duration of the season to cheer you on).
Lucifer usually stands behind the chain link fence with his arms crossed. He doesn't say much or move much, but there's a visible shift in his demeanor when your team is winning vs when you're losing. When the going is really tough, he puts a hand on the fence and grips so tightly that the metal gives way, caving in to his fist. The referees try to stay far away from him. Lucifer gives off angry parent vibes and the referee wants to avoid a confrontation with him. On the other hand, when your team is so far ahead that victory is practically assured, he stands with his legs apart and his chest puffed out, smirking and enjoying the moment.
Mammon will start bets. He doesn't care if it's against the rules as long as he keeps it on the down-low. He doesn't bet on which team will win though - he nearly destroyed all the humans who wanted to bet against your team when he tried that. He'll bet against other spectators on smaller things like whether or not somebody will slip, if two people will bump into each other, or if the hot dogs for sale are better than the popcorn.
Leviathan really doesn't have a clue what's going on. He's lost, but he's trying. Hunched over in his seat on the bleachers, he waves his glow sticks and hand fans, shouts your name when you make a move, and cheers for you louder than anybody. He's first in line for any merchandise your team sells and has your team number embroidered on the fabric tied around his head. He's just there to watch you.
Satan has to be seated in the middle of a row, in the center of his brothers, for the safety of all humans present. He's usually pretty chill when you're winning. He may need to be physically restrained if you accidentally get hurt by another player. You had to ask him very nicely to stop cursing members of the opposing team just because they were trying to beat your team. If his negative emotions start flaring up, Satan takes a walk. He will somehow manage to strike up a conversation with one local business owner or another and score your team a new sponsor.
Asmodeus is always decked out from head to toe in specially coordinated outfits, usually using one of your old jerseys. He is frequently mistaken for an official cheerleader. Due to this, he loves to sneak into team photos. He doesn't really care much about the game, he couldn't care less who's winning or losing, but he loves seeing you try your hardest. He especially enjoys the visage of you sweating and out of breath, and is the first to offer up a cold drink when the game is over.
Beelzebub is the most invested in the game. He gets pretty passionate about it and will give you pointers about your strengths and weaknesses. He helps you stretch in preparation, pack your gear, and lingers the longest before you shoo them all away and head into the locker room to get ready. He's surprisingly loud when you score. Outside of game day, he is happy to spend time with you practicing. Teach him all about human world sports, maybe he can rope his brothers into playing.
Belphegor doesn't like to sit in the stands without a back portion to lean against. He'd rather sit on the ground than on those, or just lay down and watch if there's space. He has a foam finger. When it's not being used as a cushion, he waves it around and comes up with chants for your team. After the game, during the celebratory dinner they hold whether you win or not, he'll tell you and his brothers about some of the more insulting chants he came up with for the opposing team.
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wonsdoll · 2 months ago
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THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ⟡ HYUNG LINE
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PREC𝓲S 。。 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉
형라인 /⠀ female reader ── fluff + non idol au 。。 age gap meaning 3 years !! . . . more
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HEESEUNG RARELY LETS the age gap get between the two of you. at first it felt a little weird dating someone three years older than you, a few months later it became a normal thing to you. although sometimes heeseung may poke at you, just for the fun of it.
“should i call you my baby?” heeseung laughs to himself, in a joking manner.
“very funny.” you look at him dead serious, although you’re well aware he’s just joking with you. “it’s only three years not a whole decade.” you roll your eyes playfully, pushing him jokingly.
on rather serious days, heeseung uses the gap as an advantage to protect you. “you said people on campus make you feel bad about the gap?” heeseung holds your face, his thumbs caressing your cheek gently.
you nod, unable to speak from being visibly upset. “i don’t care about the number.. i just care about how we make eachother feel.” heeseung wipes your tears away, kissing your forehead lovingly.
“and that’s how it should be.. you don’t care about what anybody says, okay?” heeseung looks you in your eyes, the look to protect you and keep you safe.
JAY LIKES TO PLAY IT COOL, but he’ll never miss a moment to playfully bring up the age gap, especially when you’re doing something that’ll make him feel just a little “older” such as browsing through older movies you haven’t had the chance to watch.
“you’re telling me you’ve never seen this movie before?” jay looks at you shocked, throwing his head back dramatically. “wow i’m really dating a baby.”
you’d roll your eyes at him playfully. “don’t worry.. i’ll catch up on all the old people things.”
beneath all the teasing, jay is very quick to reassure you. whenever you have some sort of second doubt about the age gap, he gets a little serious. his hands would hold yours, jays thumbs rubbing small circles onto your skin.
“i don’t care how old you are. you’re mature, sweet, and absolutely stunning.” jay smiles, his smile instantly brightening your mood. “plus you keep me looking young.” he laughs, pulling you into a tight embrace.
jay is proud of you, and he’s never shy of showing it. the age gap is only a detail to jay, how well you fit together is all that matters.
JAKES ALWAYS LIGHTHEARTED and the age gap between you two rarely seem like a big deal to him. he’d often make playful comments here and there, but at the end of the day it’s always for fun.
“you’re such a baby.” jake teases, when you don’t understand any of his older references, a large grin appearing on his face. “guess i’ll have to teach you about that one.”
you shoot him that look, pretending to be offended. “i’m not that young jakey, it’s only 3 years..” jake laughs. “feels like 300.” you both laugh, your bodies both vibrating within each laugh.
when you sometimes express concern over this gap, jake’s very quick to be serious and reassure you it’s okay. his gaze often softens, his tone gentle and smooth. “you know that whole age thing doesn’t bother me.” his hand reaches for yours.
“you’re perfect for me, and that’s all that matters.” he smiles, pulling you into his arms for a tight embrace. his hugs are always comfort to you.
jake’s affection is clearer than daylight, and to him, your age gap is another thing that makes your relationship unique. he constantly reminds you about what really matters, your love for one another.
SUNGHOON DOESN’T BRING UP the age gap often—it’s not something he often thinks about too much. to him, you’re still you, you never changed and you’re the same person he fell in love with from the start. occasionally, he’ll use it as a way of teasing you.
“do i need to start checking your ID?” he jokes, after hearing about a new trend only you knew about. sunghoon leans casually against the wall, his arms crossed. “you’re making me feel old, angel.”
you roll your eyes, giving him a playful nudge. “you’re not that old hoon.. just a little out of touch with the new trends.”
sunghoon grins and shakes his head, leaning against the wall as he watches you with a soft gaze. “you keep me on my toes.” his finger, gently playing with a piece of your hair.
though he’s super playful about it, there’s a rather thoughtful side when the situation gets more serious. whenever you feel insecure about the age gap, sunghoon’s expressions soften, all his attention on you.
“doesn’t matter how old you are..” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek. “you’re the one i always want, and your age is the least of my concerns.”
✉️ : older boyfriend hyung line is on my wishlist ^_^
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cosmos-coma · 7 months ago
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Sleep Deprived
A/N: still alive!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 1005
Warnings: Unedited, Toot-Rotting fluff :)
Summary: You are far too nice and cannot seem to say no when the team keeps asking you for favors. Now you're ridiculously sleep-deprived and Bucky is determined for you to finally get some rest. (Grumpy Bucky X Sunshine Reader)
Bucky Masterlist
Buy me a Coffee?
_____
Kindness had always been something you prided yourself on; your willingness to help and be patient with others had almost always done you well, but sometimes you were just too nice
First, it was helping Nat go through her old paperwork late one night; she had been in an absolute rush trying to find this old file before the deadline and you didn’t even think of refusing. Then it was Tony, who all but forced you to fill in for one of his lab techs in an overnight experiment. Then Steve wanted help with some confounded modern technology that Sam swore he didn’t have the time to teach him. 
On top of it all you had hardly been sleeping the last few nights anyway.
Where you once felt vibrant and bright was now filled with far-distant gazes and tired smiles. Not that you really noticed, right now you were only focused on opening your eyes again after each agonizingly heavy blink. 
“Y/N are you sure you want to come?” Steve asked, “You look like you could use a 90-year sleep…” he commented with a quiet huff of laughter. 
You barely even registered the joke, instead just smiling sleepy on instinct to his small laugh, “I’m sure, I really do want to go. I promise I’ll be okay once we get going” you assured. The team had been planning this outing for weeks now and you swore you wouldn’t miss it. Not only that but you really didn’t want to miss out on a chance to spend a little more time with Bucky outside of work. 
He had snared you at the very first moment and he didn’t even know it. His bright blue eyes had turned away from their conversation, a small frown on his lips from whatever had just been said, and turned to you instead- jolting you with a force you couldn’t have foreseen. Ever since then your heart had been hooked, its strings unwillingly tangled by the smallest interactions.
Not you’d ever admit that to anybody.
“Doll, I really think you should consider staying home and getting some rest…” your heart thrummed as Bucky spoke, his arms crossed over his chest as he gave you a look. 
But you only held up your hands, smiling your assurances as you spoke, “I can last a few more hours..! I’ll take a nap as soon as we get back, but I’m sure I’ll last.” 
The other members of the team only looked at each other, sharing doubtful glances but nodding nonetheless- if you really wanted to go they weren’t going to try and stop you. 
“Alright then,” Nat said with a shrug and stood up, “let’s all head out then.”
Everyone stood up at once and you followed suit, your vision swimming as you stood up far too fast. “Whoa.. um, I mean… Whoo! Yeah, let’s do this…!” You took a staggering step forward. You refused to look like you couldn’t keep up and so you pushed through, giving yourself no time for recovery. 
Thankfully there was still one person watching you. Bucky stood up to follow, lingering by your side as the others moved on ahead. He’d tell himself it was purely to watch over you, but he couldn’t deny the lingering urge to be near you. Ever since your first day at the tower when you flashed your annoyingly bright smile at him… he knew he’d never be able to think of anything else. 
You stumbled but quickly caught yourself, your breathing ragged and worn as your body begged for rest. “Doll, please-“ but he didn’t have a chance to finish as you stumbled towards the ground yet again. 
Strong hands shot out to catch you, your body almost completely limp in his firm grasp. “Oh I…” you started, struggling to keep your consciousness and your breath, “Sorry… I’m okay….”
But Bucky only frowned and shook his head,  his hands scooping you up bridal style and he turned to the rest of the team who had stopped to turn back, “You guys go ahead. We’re gonna stay here and get some rest.” He said as he walked back toward the couch, acting as if holding you against his chest was the most natural thing in the world. 
“You don’t have to do that, Bucky…” you mumbled against his chest, your body more than happy to sink into him. 
“Shh, yes I do…” he spoke quietly, the whole room settling into a calm quiet as the rest of the team headed out the door, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Doll… I know you want to be nice, but you’re only gonna wind up hurt.” He chided as he took a seat on the couch and laid back against the armrest. 
Thanks to your lack of sleep you had no shame in rolling on top of him, your cheek squishing against his chest as you let out a tired huff. “I’m not.. good at saying no…” you murmured with eyes closed, sleep coming on fast in your comfortable state. 
The grumpy ex-soldier grinned despite himself, your sweet smooshed face stirring something in his old heart. He pulled a blanket off the top of the couch, draping it over the two of you as you seemed to be in the last thralls of consciousness.
“Bucky…?”
“Yes, Doll?”
“Will you be here when I wake up…? Please..?” Your soft voice asked, your fingers curling around his shirt in an effort to make him stay- but he didn’t need any swaying. 
A grin, as bright as your own, broke through his expression, and he nodded quietly, “I’ll be right here, Doll. I promise you….”
---
And he kept his promise. 
Hours later the rest of the team had finally returned, initially boisterous and full of laughter, they were quickly quieted down by the sight before them. 
There on the couch you and Bucky continued to lay, his strong arms wrapped firmly around your frame with his sleeping face tucked into the top of your head. 
_____________________________
General Bucky Taglist:
@writingmysanity @simpxinnie @goldylions
If I missed or accidentally tagged you lmk! Wanna be added General Bucky taglist? Please ask/DM me!
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yuwuta · 5 months ago
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JJK OLYMPICS OHHH YOURE A GENIUS
head spinning w sooooooo many athlete aus rn….. 
satoru honestly isn’t half as cocky as the media makes him out to be but he could be because you bring up world champion men’s freestyle swim times and it’s his name on the scoreboard ten times before someone else shows up. he’s faster than himself by fifteen seconds all around, he’s earned a bit of cockiness. mentioned in the last post that whenever he’s at a competition and he finishes a race, he looks at the camera and signs a little infinity sign and then blows a kiss to you. some bitter old coach always calls him out on it, and gets him fined for unsportsmanlike conduct, and he’s happy to pay the fees if it means getting a message home to you, but eventually you two come up with a new code; and at his next race, he places gold, turns to the camera, crosses his middle finger over his pointer finger and smiles. when he’s in his post-race interview, he makes sure to explain that he does it for you with the widest smile on his face.
megumi nepotism baby but not in the same sport. toji was a multi gold medalist back in his heyday for shooting, so it’s not really a surprise to anybody that megumi has scary good aim, but he takes to archery instead of shooting. actually the idea of megumi being an emo little kid and throwing rocks at a tree when his dad pissed him off his hilarious, and even funnier is toji watching him, slightly amused and a little scared because megumi is maybe six and hitting the exact same spot every single time. he grows to be very blase about it—it’s more of a release/hobby for him that he happens to be really good at, and well, now good enough to earn a few olympic medals. megumi is not a fan of having his dad ruffle his hair on international television after he’s won, but he supposes it can’t be helped.
i don’t know where to put yuuta…. tennis…. tempting….. him in his little white shorts…. little grunts after he serves…. cries….. a complete 180 in his personality when he’s playing vs doing anything else. so charming and sweet and kinda shy when he’s being interviewed, and the second he steps on the court his eyes are so cold it’s scary…. need him… extremely nerdy about his rackets, and shoes, and clothes, and rambles to you about aerodynamics and posture and torque whenever you ask him to teach you, and you always have to shutup him up with a kiss and remind him that yeah you sort of want to learn to play tennis for him, but mostly you came bc he looks hot doing it. once he got asked in an interview if he ever thinks about you while he’s playing and his response was very concise, “no, never. it would be a big distraction,” and did not realize the implications of his heavily televised words. 
also…. not to make this post 40% yuuta but we could pull from canon a bit and make his sport fencing. he doesn’t excel because he’s the strongest, it’s because he’s learned to treat the sword as an extension of himself and a good strategist… also because i like the image of him pulling the helmet/mask off and shaking his hair out………..
don’t even know where to put yuuji…. volleyball? basketball? track and field??? the irony of him easily being the most athletic but canonically does not want to play sports 😭 but i can see him playing a sport because someone scouts him and it turns out to be a way to make steady money to support himself and his grandpa :( by the time he’s qualified and made it to the olympics, wasuke is doing much better (thanks to yuuji having landed some preemptive sponsorships and being able to afford better medical care), but not so well enough that he can travel across the world to watch yuuji play. wasuke tells you that you should travel and be with yuuji, but yuuji is so touched by the idea that you would stay with his grandpa and be by his side when he’s away :(( he wins gold, of course, and he doesn’t even wait until the closing ceremony—which, he’d mentioned in all of his interviews, so nobody can be too upset. he’s on record saying, “i’m excited to play, but i’m even happier to be going home. my girlfriend and my grandpa are watching me and i miss them!” several times— he’s on the first flight home with flowers, and tears in his eyes. puts his gold medal on his grandpa’s neck as a thank you, and spends probably thirty minutes straight hugging you and kissing you and honestly don’t put it past him to propose now that he’s got nike ambassador money 
nanami started judo as a way to relieve the stress of his overbearing job, and someone at the gym/training center notices he seems to be a natural despite being a beginner. he starts to draw a crowd, which annoys him at first because the point of judo was discipline and release from having to deal with too many people at his office job, but nanami supposes he can’t be too mad when you introduce yourself as a talent scout and offer him professional training. there’s irony in him accepting your offer, because it was definitely not based in professionalism at all… quitting his job as a salaryman to become a professional athlete in his mid-twenties was not on his bingo chart, but if it means he will have met you, then so be it. you’re with him all the way, through his training, competitions, world championships, qualifiers, all the way until he’s on the podium. you’re the first to congratulate him, but he interjects by telling you he’s quitting. you ask him why—he just won at the olympics for crying out loud, but nanami just shakes his head, puts down his flowers and his medal so his hands are free to hold your face and tell you, “it would be unethical to kiss my manager, so i am quitting.” (later, when everything is said and done, and you two are cuddling, you mention to him that he could just hire a new manager, and not quit his new career, to which he blushes because yeah… that’s probably more rational, but rational was not in his train of thought at the time)
#anonymous#nanami kento.......................................... god#also yuuji :((((( just a kid who wanted to do something nice for his grandpa I will CRY#immediate proposal when he gets home to you who does he think he is? yuuta?#speaking of yuuta he's like the best player his age and he's always asked to attend events or parties or whatever#and he's always like ah no thank you I am going home to my girlfriend#every fucking interview it's like yeah I love tennis but I love my girlfriend more for supporting and encouraging me#my girlfriend my girlfriend my girlfriend#one day he actually seems Excited to be doing his press conference and a journalist picks up on it to which yuuta happily raises his hand#and lets everyone know that he's now engaged. and very very grateful for his wife#he does the same shit a few years later like randomly during a press conference he's like#'I am kinda nervous. my baby didn't sleep well last night so I was up with him pretty late' and everyone's like BABY?#and yuutas like yeah! he's almost 14 months now do u wanna see him!#let me stop bringing kids into this bc w/ satoru and kento I could go on for hours....#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#yuuta x reader#yuuji x reader#megumi x reader#nanami kento x reader#once u asked megumi what he thinks about when he's practicing and he's so deadpan as he reloads and arrow#and right before he lets it go he's like 'ur ex boyfriend' and then hits the target dead in the center LMFAO#olympics au
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iloveboysinred · 7 months ago
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I won't say I'm in love [Prince Zuko]
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pg. 13, fluff | Zuko x gn! reader
synopsis; Zuko had never been one to express himself in the right ways, anger had always been his primary emotion. But, when he meets you, a rouge fire bender helping the Avatar, it becomes hard for him to accept the growing warmth in his chest every time you look at him.
cw; emotionally constipated Zuko, fluff, pining, Clueless Zuko, Zuko doesn’t know how to deal with feelings, awkward turtleduck, light fluff.
Masterlist
Zuko never had time to really sit and think about relationships. After spending his early teenage years on a wild goose chase hunting the avatar, and now having joined the Gaang, with only a week to teach Aang how to firebend so he could face Ozai, he had a lot going on.
However, when he had started to fit in with the gaang better, you had definitely caught his attention.
You were a firebender yourself, highly skilled and light on your feet. You made a formidable opponent in battle, your elegance and lightweight movements almost resembling an air-bender. Zuko couldn’t help but stare as you practiced basic maneuvers, your muscles flexing with every movement, the thin sheen of sweat on your brow, and the fierce look of concentration on your beautiful face. To say Zuko was whipped was an understatement.
You were the last to accept him into the group, having always been a bit of a loner and standoffish, you didnt trust him. Especially with him being the crown prince of the very nation that has caused you nothing but pain. So Zuko worked extra hard to earn your friendship. Doing good deeds like helping Sokka clean up camp, going on water collecting trips with Kitara, helping Toph with her hair, and of course, befriending Aang and teaching him firebending alongside you.
While Zuko was still miles away from getting close to you, he was running out of ideas on how to gain your approval. So, naturally he went to Sokka for advice.
“Its like no matter what i do, y/n still hates me! I dont get it, you guys all like me, you know i’m good now. So whats their problem?” Sokka looked over Zuko’s exasperated face, putting two and two together. Not that it was hard, everyone caught him staring at you like a creep once or twice already. “I dont think y/n hates you, honestly. Thats just the way they are. It took like, 2 months for them to really open up to us.” Sokka shrugged, smoothing his hair down. “If i’m being honest, you’re trying too hard. Seems like you got a thing for them.” Zuko gaped, staring at Sokka like he had grown another head. “What are you talking about!? I dont like them. I just want them to trust me!” But despite his words, the flush on his face betrayed his denial. Sokka raised his eyebrows. “Right. Okay. Why don’t you just talk to them? I mean, obviously what youre doing isnt working. Maybe you should get them a gift or something.” Zuko nodded to himself. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? He quickly stood up, a new objective in mind.
“Thanks Sokka.”
“Anytime, bro. And a word of advice, if you’re trying to make it less obvious that you like them, try not staring so hard. It creeps everyone out.”
“I TOLD YOU I DONT!”
“Yeah, yeah whatever. Get out before you burn my tent down.”
Zuko rolled his eyes, storming off with a deep flush on his cheeks.
The next morning he set out to the village nearby, wearing a cloak to disguise his face. He looked around the market, stopping by a jeweler, who had a whole array of different bracelets, necklaces, and rings. A peculiar necklace stood out to him. It held a beautiful ruby, plated in gold and held on to a thin, gold chain. Before anybody could see, he snatched it up, quickly leaving and heading back to the air temple before anybody could confront him. On the way back he stopped by a patch of fire-Lillies, picking a few to make a messy bouquet. “Y/n will like these.” He muttered to himself, trying to tie them together with an old piece of twine.
When he made his way back to camp, the others stared at him with questioning glances, momo crawling up to sniff at the flowers. “Whats with the flowers? You into gardening or something?” Sokka asked, eyeing the bright fire-lillies in his grasp. “I got these for Y/n” Zuko blushed as he realized how this looked, averting his eyes from Sokka’s teasing gaze. “Aww thats sweet, Zuko. Who knew you were such a softie.” Kitara cooed, fluttering her lashes in a mock swoon. Zuko gritted his teeth, cheeks burning hotter than the sun. “Yeah, maybe you’ll man up and confess. We all know you like them” Toph chided, smirking. “I don’t!” Zuko protested. “You’re lyinggg” Toph hummed, and Zuko cursed her abilities to see with her feet.
“Whats going on?” Zuko froze when he heard your voice, quickly turning towards you, hiding the bouquet behind his back. “Oh nothing, just teasing Zuko about his undying lo-“ Sokka was abruptly cut off by Zuko slapping his hand over his mouth, glaring at him. “What Sokka was trying to say is, we were teasing Zuko’s undying and super obvious crush on you.” Toph stated nonchalantly. The others snickered at Zuko’s panicked expression, his cheeks couldn’t have gotten hotter, wide eyes turned to you. “I dont know what they’re talking about! I don’t have a crush on you! They’re just trying to be funny i swear-“ “uh, Zuko-“ “I just want you to trust me, so i got you these flowers-“ he pulled the bouquet from behind him, presenting it to you. But what he didn’t realize was, he had accidentally set the lilies on fire. He gasped and dropped the bouquet, stomping on the charred flowers to put the fire out. You just gave him a blank look, the others snickering behind you. Zuko had never felt so embarrassed in his life.
“Wow Zuko, that sure was a good way to confess!” Kitara teased, watching as you just threw your hands up, being completely done with… whatever that was, and walking away to your tent. “Yeah Zuko. Maybe try not almost burning the camp down. I think Y/n will like it better if you just told them how you feel!” Aang chirped, just irritating Zuko more with his upbeat attitude. “Whatever, you guys are impossible” he snapped, storming off in a random direction. “And I told you i don’t like them!” Once he was out of earshot, Toph snickered, laying on her back against Appa’s side. “He’s lying again.”
For the rest of the day, Zuko avoided you at all costs. Leaving you to teach Aang by yourself, even sitting a considerable distance away from you during lunch. It was confusing you, but you didn’t say anything. You guessed he was still embarrassed from the spectacle he had made of himself that morning. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Zuko was sweet, and if what the others are saying is true, you couldn’t deny that you could start feeling something for him too. You’d observed him ever since he joined the group, and his surprisingly gentle heart had impressed you. You’d watched him teach Aang during your training sessions. Appreciating the way his body moved flawlessly, his dark hair bringing out the gold in his eyes. You had to admit, you weren’t complaining when he would show up to your lessons shirtless. There was no denying he was cute.
So, you decided to approach him, surprising even yourself. You waited for everyone to settle into their tents, then you made your way to his. You stood outside for a second, thinking about how you were going to start this, what you would say. But your thoughts blanked when Zuko crawled out of his tent, now face to face with you. “O-oh hi- Zuko- i, um” you stuttered, lost for words. His eyes widened at the sight of you, sputtering like a nervous wreck. “I just wanted to u-um say, t-that i think the flowers were beautiful and u-um that was very sweet of you” “o-oh” you stood in awkward silence, the ground suddenly very interesting. “Anyways i think i’m gonna go-“ “wait, i-i um, i got you this too.” He quickly handed you the necklace, eyes averting yours and a deep blush on his cheeks. You looked the piece of jewelry over, smiling at him. “It’s beautiful Zuko. Um, thank you?” “You’re uh, you’re welcome..” you don’t know what took over you, but you leaned forward pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You stared at each other in shock, now it was your turn to blush, face as red as a tomato. “Uh well, its getting late- i’m gonna go back to my tent. G-goodnight” the words came out quicker than you could think, racing off back to your tent. Leaving Zuko standing there, hand on his cheek, feeling how warm the skin was under his palm. His brain short circuited and his heart was beating 400 miles per minute, he swore he was gonna pass out.
Hope you enjoyed :> notes and reblogs are appreciated, comments, asks, and requests are welcomed! 💗
part 2
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colourstreakgryffin · 7 months ago
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Hiii! Can I request headcanons on what vox would be like as a father of a teen daughter? I feel like he'd be great to gossip with and would tell her to slap any boy that hits on her
Vox absolutely fucking would do this, and he is that type of girl dad to loudly brag that his Princess is cuter than every other father’s! Vox be like: ‘You wish your daughter was as cute as mine’
Vox- Baby Laptop
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Vox is extremely doting and loving but extremely protective. Like, he has cameras and drones following you, his fourteen year old human life AND demon life daughter, around all the time. You can’t leave the tower without him knowing and he won’t condone you walking around Hell without ALL his bodyguards escorting you
Vox is a bragger. He brags and he flexes what he has so when it comes to you, he is one-upping every known mother and father in the Pride Ring and flaunting his precious babygirl with no hesitation. You’re beautiful and Hell deserves to bask in your presence… according to Vox
Remember, your dad is the technology Overlord. The one in charge of every device in this city, so of course, he is kept to date with every trend or phrase or online concept and he always gives you the latest model his slaves team created. He spoils you since it’s a symbol of his love
Vox is basically your best gossip buddy and no matter how busy he is, he’ll make time to talk to you. Call him, he’ll answer and whilst he works, he’ll listen to you and he remembers it. He has a good open ear and a good sense of ‘fuck you all’ so he’ll get rather into your gossip pieces and consider asking Velvette to spread them through her social media influence
Vox is more than capable of getting sweet, soft and emotive with you. He always proclaims to you, with his whole heart, that he puts you out because he’s proud of you and adores you and he wants you to have everything when back on Earth, he could barely give you anything
Yes. Vox loves you MORE than he likes messing with Valentino so if Valentino dares to hit you, your father is bolting across the room at mach speeds to make his on-and-off boyfriend regret putting his hands on you. You’re his spoiled little princess and nobody touches you! You’re too valuable!
Vox has a picture of you in his wallet and in his suit pocket. So, whilst he is working tirelessly throughout the days and hasn’t seen you in a while. He’ll pick either photograph out and admire it. Both are direct recreations of photographs he owned when both of you were humans
Like Carmilla Carmine with her two daughters, Vox likes to have you occasionally work for him and occasionally means occasionally. Vox only cares that you’re happy so if you want to spend all day everyday in your big fancy room in his tower free of stress, he lets it!
However. Vox, of course, teaches you important life skills. He didn’t get a chance to when both of you were humans on Earth so he is now. Every night, he teaches you to cook recipes, he teaches you to do basic chores, he teaches you how to balance any money you earn
Vox almost views you as the cute babygirl he had back on Earth. The little five year old that was so happy to see him come home after so long of working so hard as a TV salesman in the late 1940s. The little girl who needed him to go to sleep at night, the precious darling who claimed she’d grow up and become a saleswoman too!
Vox does baby you and he doesn’t regret it. He coodles, he snuggles, he baby talks, he coos. He does all of it because he loves you dearly, you’re the single thing that drove him to become a Overlord, you’re the single thing that motivated him to become one of the strongest Overlords in Hell, you’re the single thing that even brought him to work with technology
Vox had always taught you; ‘if a boy or a girl hits on you, slap them’ and that became your norm. You come home, Vox asks what happened and you tell him. He is always happy to hear that you don’t let anybody bother you
The only criticism or advice Vox will take for his products is you so when you say something doesn’t work or needs improvement. He takes it and throws it as his workers so they can fix up what you said. He doesn’t care what his clients think, he cares what his own flesh and blood thinks
Vox loves how you have his TV head and even gets you to wear a matching outfit with him as a cute father-daughter joke. He likes it, it’s adorable. You look like such a badass business lady! He is that type of dad that will embarrass you with how much he loves you
Talking about a father-daughter situation, Vox has the weekends booked all for you. Two father-daughter days out so you two go to the shops, get drinks, gossip more, talk shit about Alastor, go egg the Hazbin Hotel, get some shopping then go to visit the Vees to chat then pick up a movie suggestion to go watch a movie together! Vox loves these days since he is truly himself with you
Vox legit has you in his contacts as the following; ‘My precious darling princess’
“Darling, Princess. It’s time to wake up, we’re going out together! Yes. To the movies and to the shops. I heard that old timey prick is in a Hotel so let’s go egg it once we’re done, ‘kay? Great, I’ll be waiting for you, pumpkin”
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joelscruff · 2 years ago
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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART TWO
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You can read part one here. i'm so grateful for the positive response for this on the first chapter, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!! Things are already getting smutty, enjoy 💕 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. summary: you're back from college for the summer, staying with your devout catholic parents in your childhood home while they order you around and try to keep authority over you. as an act of rebellion you ask your new neighbor mr. miller to teach you how to play guitar, but it turns out there's a lot more he wants to teach you. (no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, dirty old man joel, corruption (but it's consensual), praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader's family are very catholic), fingering, masturbation word count: 8.1k ao3
You're relieved the next morning when you look out your bedroom window and see your father's police car and your mother's SUV missing from the driveway. They've both already left for work, which means no twenty questions to answer when you go downstairs, no grilling you about what exactly you're going to be doing today. But it's not like you'd tell them the truth anyway.
You pick your outfit very carefully, shoving modest sweaters and long dresses aside as you search for something specific for Mr. Miller. You want him to look at you again like he did yesterday; the thought makes your thighs clench together again as you dig through the depths of your closet. You settle on an old Sunday School dress that you probably haven't worn since you had your final growth spurt, baby blue and simple. You undress and tug it over yourself, trying to ignore the way it tightens uncomfortably around your chest; it's much too small but you're running out of options.
"That's sexy, right?" you ask your silent bedroom, peering in the mirror at yourself. You were much shorter when you wore the dress last; now the hem settles on your upper thighs, leaving your legs completely exposed. It hugs your curves and accentuates your breasts, cleavage pushed up against the neckline so much that it feels like they could pop out at any moment.
You pick up a discarded pink hoodie and zip it on over the dress, hiding where you're practically bulging out of the material. Maybe you'll take it off later, but for now you don't need any of your neighbors reporting to your parents that they saw you walking down the street half naked.
You spend way too long getting ready, changing things about your hair and makeup over and over until you know you can't put off leaving anymore. You grab a quick bowl of cereal and then, with a resigned look of determination, you swap your flip flops with sneakers and head out into the hot summer day.
Not too many people are outside yet; parents have already left for work, kids are still sleeping, dogs have already been walked. You make it to Mr. Miller's without having to say an awkward hello to anybody, for which you're grateful.
He's not sitting on the step when you get there and for some reason it stops you in your tracks, leaving you standing at the end of his walkway like you had yesterday.
What if he's at work, you dumbass?
You hadn't factored in the possibility that he wouldn't be home. You'd had this ridiculous notion that maybe he'd be waiting for you, watching both sides of the street until you appeared and batted your eyelashes and asked him if you could still take him up on his offer. You'd visualized the whole thing. Like a teenager.
Just knock. Just knock and if he's not there, go home and try again later.
You still haven't moved from the end of his walk when the front door suddenly opens. Your eyes widen in surprise as he appears on his front step in all his disheveled glory, putting his hand across his face to block the sun; he's barefoot, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a band you don't recognize on the front, and his hair is sticking up in different directions like he's just woken up. He brings a blue coffee mug up to his lips and takes a sip, eyes on you when he brings it back down, giving you a wry smile.
"Good mornin', babygirl," he says with that deep and slightly rough voice, leaning against the door frame, "Was hopin' you'd come back."
You blink a few times, brain whirring and stuttering helplessly as you stare at him. He's so handsome, so much older and rugged and sexy. You feel your panties get wet again and you can't even be mad at yourself; you're too distracted by the gorgeous man in front of you, looking directly at you, calling you babygirl. He's probably older than your father and yet you can't find a single bone in your body that cares in the slightest.
"Hi." you say softly, almost a squeak.
He smiles a bit wider, "Changed your mind, huh?"
You nod quickly, not knowing what else to say. He glances down at your dress and without thinking you shakily grab the zipper on your hoodie, tugging it down and showing him the full thing. You watch with bated breath as his eyes trail to your chest, looking openly and unapologetically at your breasts. He chuckles to himself and looks at your face again, taking another sip of coffee.
"I was hoping... um..." you bite your lip, trying to find the words, "I, uh-"
"Just come on in, darlin'," he interjects, laughing lightly again, "Don't hurt yourself." He moves back from the door a bit, gesturing for you to come inside.
You don't need telling twice. You put your head down, trying not to show him how nervous you are as you walk up his patio steps and slide past him into his house. You can practically hear your parents' voices in your head: "Don't talk to strangers. Don't go into a stranger's house." You're rebelling in more ways than one today.
"That's a pretty dress," he says behind you once you're inside, and you hear him shut the door. No going back now.
"Thank you." you turn to look at him, feeling out of place standing in the house of a man you don't know. You're just in time to see him looking at your body again and your skin heats once more.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asks with a crooked smile, charming and natural. You tell him and he just smiles wider, tilts his head to the side, "That's pretty."
"Thank you," you say again, "Um, what's yours?"
"I'm Joel," he puts his hand out for you to take, "Joel Miller. Surprised you didn't ask your momma about me."
You take it and feel your knees go slightly weak at his firm grip, big hand dwarfing yours in size, "I - uh, I did. But she just called you Mr. Miller."
He smirks at that, squeezing your hand in his, "You wanna call me Mr. Miller too? You can."
"Um," you're not sure what to say, biting down on your lip again and feeling flustered when he doesn't release your hand, "Uh..."
"You're a shy one, aren't you?" he asks, voice going a bit soft, soothing, "It's alright, darlin'. I don't mean to make you nervous."
"I'm not." you say it too quickly and you both know it's bullshit. He drops your hand and you turn your attention to the room in front of you, an open concept living space with a kitchen on the opposite side; it's nice, although you're surprised someone is living alone in such a big house.
"So do you, uh...do you have a wife?" you figure you should probably get that out of the way first; you're already planning on sinning in one way today, you don't need to add adultery to the list.
"No, just me." he walks past you and gestures for you to follow him. You do, walking to the kitchen and watching him take a glass down from the cupboard and start filling it with water. You stand there awkwardly, smoothing your dress down a bit and looking around the room.
You're so fucking nervous. You don't even know what he's got on his mind, let alone whether or not you're ready to do it. You imagine he'll lead you up to his bedroom, maybe turn the lights off and close the curtains...light a candle? Put on some music? You hope he'll be gentle and slow, that he'll listen to you. You know from your college friends that most men your age aren't really good at setting the mood, knowing how to do things the right way. Maybe because Mr. Miller - Joel - is older... it'll be better?
"Here, sweetheart, breathe," he hands you the glass of water and you take it with trembling fingers, "You don't need to be scared of me."
"I'm not scared of you," you reiterate, shaking your head and taking a sip.
"Right. Just like you weren't scared yesterday?"
You frown and put the water back down on the counter, "I- I wasn't scared."
He chuckles, leaning against the kitchen island and tilting his head again as he looks at you, "Well darlin', I might've gone back in my house but I saw you from the window. You practically sprinted down the street," he smirks at the memory, "Seemed scared to me."
"I wasn't scared. I'm not scared." You're not sure you're telling him or telling yourself.
"You sure? You're all flustered" he murmurs, and suddenly he's reaching up to hold your chin between his fingers, turning your head toward him. Your lips part in surprise, trembling beneath his touch as his thumb strokes gently against your jaw. You feel your face get even hotter.
He smirks at your response, eyes casting up and down your face quickly before he releases your chin and grabs the glass of water from where you'd laid it back down, turning to pour the rest of it down the sink. While his back is turned you fight to regain your composure, willing all the blood to disperse from your face.
"Well, no time like the present," he says, turning back around and walking past you out of the kitchen, "Guitar's in the living room."
You stare after him, brow furrowing in confusion, "What?"
"You still wanna learn that song, don't you?" he calls behind him, picking up his guitar from where it's leaning against the wall. He sits down on the couch and gestures with his neck for you to come over, smug smile still plain as day on his face.
You slowly make your way over to him, heart pounding in your chest. You seat yourself beside him on the couch, close enough that he can show you his guitar but not close enough that you're touching him. You may want him to touch you desperately but that doesn't change the fact that you're still freaking out right now. Because what does he want? You'd genuinely thought he'd meant something different yesterday with that comment about your fingers. He'd been flirting, hadn't he? Or is that just his nature?
"It's a simple chord progression," Mr. Miller - Joel - immediately begins to demonstrate. He strums on the strings, aligning his fingers carefully at the neck of the guitar and angling it in such a way that you can see what he's doing, "We start with an A and then go into G major pretty quickly."
You watch his fingers, long and almost delicate now as he presses his fingertips to the strings, holds them down as he starts to thumb out a tune. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes trained fully on the tender way he caresses the strings, coaxes beautiful sounds out of the guitar with minimal effort.
"Then D," he murmurs, and you notice that his eyes are also directed at his fingers, making sure he's showing you correctly, like he actually cares that he does it right, "And E into F sharp."
It's not like he's speaking another language - you know basic music theory from simply going to school all your life - but you don't fully understand how the notes and chords he's talking about translate into his fingers, into the shapes they make, where they push down. You know nothing about playing guitar and he's only a few moments away from realizing that; you can't help but already feel humiliated. Why the fuck had you lied to him yesterday? What are you even doing here?
"It pretty much repeats like that the whole way through," he says, starting the song over and strumming a bit slower, showing you his chord changes more purposefully, "But as I said yesterday there's lot's of room for some adlibbin' here and there, doesn't have to be by the book."
You feel yourself nod, although you still have no idea what he's talking about. He suddenly stops his movements on the guitar, directing his eyes back to you. You swallow down the nervous lump in your throat once again, willing yourself to look back.
"Wanna give it a try?" he asks, and without waiting for your answer he hands you the guitar. You take it from him with wide eyes, your own hands fitting into place where his had been only seconds ago, still warm; it makes you shiver.
"Um," you look down at the guitar, trying to shape your fingers in a similar way to what he'd done. Your nose scrunches up in concentration and confusion.
"Starts with A," Joel says, and you look up from the guitar to see him smiling softly at you, urging you to play him something.
Your fingers stay frozen on the guitar, tongue darting out to wet your lips. You can feel anxiety burning in the pit of your stomach.
"Okay, now I'm scared," you admit, voice shaky and small.
He doesn't say anything; you look up again and see him peering at you thoughtfully, brow furrowed. You hope he's figuring it out internally so you don't have to say it out loud, admit what a fraud you are.
"...You don't know how to play, do you?" he asks finally.
You bite your lip and hang your head in shame, grip loosening on the guitar, "No. I'm sorry."
To your surprise he laughs, deep and genuine. You lift your head back up to see him settle back in the couch a bit, shaking his head as he grins at you. You can't help but feel yourself smile back at him.
"You're adorable," he says with a sincerity that puts your tummy in knots, your gaze averting his once again, "I mean it, I can't even be mad 'cause you're so sweet, darlin'."
"M'not," you mumble, slightly embarrassed as you hand the guitar back to him and shake your head, "I'm a liar."
He takes it from you, "Why'd you lie? Coulda said you didn't play, I wouldn't have judged you for it."
You shrug, still not looking at him, "I don't know, I..." you sigh, biting your lip, "I wanted... I wanted you to think..." You don't finish but you're pretty sure he understands, aware of him nodding slowly in your peripheral vision.
"You're sweet," he repeats, voice softer this time, "So sweet, babygirl."
You shiver again at the pet name, finally bringing yourself to look at him again. He's still looking at you, dark eyes boring into your skin, lips turned up into that wry smile again.
"C'mere," he says, even softer, and you watch as he open his legs, moves back a bit on the couch and pats the empty spot in front of him. You stare, breath hitching at the realization that he wants you to sit there, "I wanna show you somethin'," he urges, "I won't bite, promise."
With shaky legs you reposition yourself on the couch, getting up and sitting back down between his wide legs. As soon as you're seated he brings the guitar down into your lap and sits up a bit, pushes his chest against your back as his arms wrap around your nervous form, holding the guitar in front of you.
"Watch my fingers," he says quietly, and you find that his voice is speaking directly into your left ear, breath warm and welcome against your skin. You have no choice but to obey, not that you'd even want to make any other choice.
He curves his fingers along the neck of the guitar again, pushing down the strings in a few different places and holding it there. He strums firmly, the back of the guitar pushing lightly into your belly with the tension.
"That's a C chord," he murmurs, strumming again, "See where my fingers are?"
"Yeah," you reply, barely a whisper; your mouth has gone dry.
"You hold your fingers as hard as you can against the strings," he continues, "It hurts at first, when you're learning, but the longer you play the more you build up calluses. You know what calluses are?"
You shake your head, unable to speak, too lost in the warmth of his breath against the nape of your neck, the masculine smell of him tingling your nose. He pulls his hand back from the strings and brings it up near your face, showing you his fingers.
"These are calluses," he explains, referring to the deep grooves embedded in the tips of his fingers, "They help you hold the strings down easier so it doesn't hurt."
You stare at his fingers, getting lost in their length and size, their girth. You feel yourself becoming wet in your underwear, clenching around nothing at the thought of one of those calluses touching you down there where you need it most. Your breath hitches again, thighs rubbing together involuntarily.
"Lemme show you," he murmurs, and to your surprise he suddenly takes your left hand in his and brings it to the neck of the guitar. You watch with bated breath as he carefully positions your fingers over the correct strings, holds them there with his own, "Play that."
With your shaky right hand you thumb the strings at the base of the guitar, a clear chord ringing out into the open room. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs again, charming and soft.
"There you go," he says softly, "First chord. Good girl."
The words send another pulsating wave of wetness into your underwear and you tremble beneath his touch, feeling your brows furrow in pleasure at the feeling of him being so close to you while you feel like this. Your hips buck up a bit but you feel too good to be embarrassed.
"Somethin' wrong?" he asks you gently, voice still close to your ear, "You're all flustered again, babygirl."
You hum, closing your eyes tight for a moment and trying to breathe, but all you can smell is him. All you can feel is him. You swallow tightly when you feel his touch ghost against your thigh, eyes opening to see him press his palm wide against your bare skin. You watch with parted lips as his thumb strokes the skin just below the hem of your dress, eyes hazy when he pushes himself against you from behind a bit tighter.
"Why'd you really come here, sweetheart?" he breathes, almost a whisper, "Tell me the truth."
You take a deep and shaky breath and feel yourself leaning back into him, eyes closing again as he slowly strokes your thigh, "You know why," you whisper.
He hums in response, nosing your ear gently and breathing you in, left hand still holding yours tightly against the neck of the guitar, "I do," he murmurs. You feel as he presses a wet kiss against your earlobe, beard rough against your skin. Your eyes roll back when he takes it into his mouth, sucks gently on it while he squeezes your thigh.
You're in heaven, completely at his mercy as you fall back further against him between his legs, your own going lax and loose the more he touches you. No one has ever done this to you, put their mouth on any part of you that wasn't your lips, put their hands anywhere near where you're currently aching to be touched. You watch as Joel's fingers inch upwards along your thigh, slipping past the hem of your dress. You already know where he wants to put his fingers next.
"I'm a virgin," you squeak without warning, panic suddenly brewing in your stomach. His hand freezes on your thigh and he pulls back from your ear. Why the fuck did you say that?
Now he'll be a gentleman, he'll take you off his lap and tell you to leave, tell you he can't be the one to take your virginity. You've seen this in movies, read it in books, heard it firsthand from your friends in college. Men don't like the responsibility of being your first, don't like the idea of a girl getting attached to them. And Joel... he's a grown man and you're just a twenty one year old Catholic mess with way too much baggage. There's absolutely no way he'll want to touch you now.
"Let's put this down," he whispers, and carefully helps you move the guitar off your lap and place it to the side. Here it comes, he's gonna tell you to get up and go home. You wait for him to inevitably push you from the couch, awkwardly stand up and lead you to the front door.
But that doesn't happen. Instead, you watch with wide and confused eyes as he suddenly puts both hands on your bare thighs, squeezing them gently beneath his wide palms, "You ever been touched like this, darlin'?" he asks you quietly.
You shake your head, "N-no."
His thumbs stroke your skin softly, tenderly. You feel as he sits up a bit more and tightens his legs around you, holding you in place, "You like the way that feels?"
"Yes," you whisper, soft and secret, "Feels good."
"That's good, it's s'posed to," Joel murmurs, nosing your ear again, "Now let's pull up this pretty dress a little bit," the words send a shock to your system, eyes widening in surprise. He doesn't wait for you to help, just immediately goes for the hem of your dress and hikes it up your legs, exposing more of your bare thighs and a hint of your panties, blue and lacy to match your dress, "Oh, you're just a pretty little thing aren't you?" he breathes, voice hot against your ear, "You really never been touched?"
"Never," you repeat, and he just hums and presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, making your breath hitch, "Th-that doesn't bother you?"
"Not at all, sweetheart," he breathes, tightening his grip on your thighs; the feeling of his large palms on your flesh makes you whimper slightly, looking down at where he's holding you and shivering, "Makes me want you more than I already do."
Your pussy is throbbing in your panties and you're sure there must be a stain through your dress, through the couch. You rub your thighs together and whimper again, head falling back against Joel's shoulder. You feel him kiss your hair, watch as his hands slide up your thighs so his fingertips are just slightly touching the edges of your underwear.
"You're all wet, aren't you?" he asks softly, soothingly, "Been sittin' here soaking my couch this whole time, huh? Want me to touch you so bad, don't you, babygirl?"
You hear yourself make a strange noise through your teeth, a hnnng sound that makes him chuckle, "You like that, don't you? You like bein' my babygirl?"
"I do," you whisper.
"That's good," he murmurs, "That's real good, babygirl." His thumbs hook into your panties then, tugging gently, "Now let's take these off," he says, beginning to slide them down, "so I can take a look at this pretty little pussy you've been savin' just for me."
You both watch as your panties slip down your bare legs with ease, dress still hiding your pussy from him entirely. It's impossible not to notice the enormous dark spot in the fabric, glistening in the sunlight. You can't help but feel embarrassed.
"Oh, baby," he groans, fisting them in his hand and thumbing the dark spot tightly, "So wet."
"Why does that happen?" you ask, swallowing around the anxious lump in your throat, knowing you're just advertising your inexperience even more by asking.
"Means you're turned on, sweet girl" he explains, thumb still pressed firmly against the wet spot as he presses another wet kiss to your ear, sloppier this time, "I'm turnin' you on."
"You are," you agree shakily, "It happened last night too, after..."
"After?"
"After I dreamed about you."
He smiles against your skin, dropping the panties to the floor and bringing his hand back down to your thigh; his thumb is wet and sticky against your skin, "You're a naughty little thing, aren't you? Did you touch yourself? Make yourself come thinkin' about me?"
"No," you shake your head, "I haven't... I've never..."
He groans in understanding, but not in an irritated or angry way. It's arousal, you can tell by the way his legs tighten around your trembling form, pulling you in closer. He pulls up the hem of your dress and exposes your wet and aching pussy to the both of you, lips bare and soft against his couch. You hear his breath hitch behind you when it comes into view.
"Fuck," he says, voice low and rough with arousal, "Look at you."
He barely hesitates, reaching down and thumbing your outer lips with both hands, his other fingers splaying against your inner thighs. You squirm at the feeling, brows scrunching together when he gently pinches your soft lips and sucks your earlobe back into his mouth.
"So soft, babygirl," he whispers, releasing it with a wet pop, "Look at that." You don't think he's actually telling you to look, more-so talking to himself as he caresses the outer part of your pussy gently, "So pretty."
"I-um... I shaved it," you whisper, "Just in case."
"Babygirl, you didn't need to do that," he noses your ear and you feel his breath, hot and sticky against your skin, "Woulda been pretty either way."
You feel your cheeks warm, "My roommates said most guys don't like-"
"Am I most guys?" he whispers, and continues to stroke your pussy lips up and down with his thumbs, "You know how old I am, babygirl?"
"N-no." His touch is becoming too much, too distracting. It feels good to have him touching you like this but it's still not where you need him to touch you, the slick part inside that's absolutely aching for his fingers feeling desperately wetter.
"Why don't you take a guess, see how accurate you are."
"Um," you barely understand what he's even talking about, eyes trained on where he's stroking you, "F-fourty?"
He laughs immediately, "Now we both know that's not your real guess, sweetheart."
You bite your lip, watching his thumbs, "Well... I don't wanna... I don't wanna hurt your feelings."
He smiles, "You're sweet. But I don't care, darlin', gimme your real guess."
You sigh shakily, "Fifty."
"Close," he breathes, and you watch with a whimper as he begins to drag his thumbs up and down your wet slit, lips too puffy to show him what's beyond, "That's real close, bit higher."
Higher? Fuck.
"Fifty...three?"
He dips the tip of his thumbs ever so slightly inside your slit, then brings them out again and pushes your own wetness across your outer lips, making your skin glisten, "Higher."
"F-fifty five?"
"Fifty six," he finally says, still thumbing your juices all along your pussy. You're not sure how to respond, surprised by the number but also desperately turned on, waiting for him to finally slip inside where you're begging him to touch, "That make you uncomfortable?" he asks after a moment of silence, and you swear you hear a bit of hesitance in his question as his hands freeze, waiting for you to reply before he goes any further.
"No," you reply, shaking your head slowly, thoughtfully, "It doesn't."
"You're sure?" he asks quietly, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice, "Because I can stop, sweetheart. Just say the word, I'll let you go home."
You shake your head again, more frantically this time at the thought of him releasing you from his embrace, "I promise, Mr. Miller," you whisper, then quickly correct yourself, "Joel."
"You can call me Mr. Miller, babygirl," he whispers, and you watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pulls your swollen lips apart, exposing the innermost parts of yourself to his living room. Your mouth pops open in surprise, eyes widening at how wet and sticky you are, a big drop of your own wetness pushing past your aching hole and dribbling out onto his hand.
"Gonna take care of this perfect untouched pussy, I swear," he groans, rough and low in your ear, pinching your outer lips again as his gaze bores into your sopping cunt, "Gonna make her feel so good."
--
With wobbly legs Joel had helped you up from the couch, chuckling when you'd tripped up almost immediately. With sure and steady hands he'd straightened you up, carefully removed your hoodie and discarded it on the couch, "Won't need this," he'd said softly, "Let's go get in my bed, sweetheart."
Now he holds you on the edge of his bed, inside a bedroom that feels cozy and masculine, that smells like him. His bed wasn't made when he'd lead you inside but other than that he has a clean bedroom, small and comfortable. He now has you sitting in his lap with your legs wide, hooked over his own while you both face the full length mirror on the wall.
"W-what are we doing?" you ask breathlessly, feeling slightly embarrassed at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks are still hot, hair messy and dress falling off, positively debauched and certainly no longer the good little Catholic girl your parents raised. You watch as Joel fingers the hem of your dress again and slowly pulls it up, exposing your dripping pussy to the mirror and to the both of you.
"Wanna show you what I'm doing," Joel murmurs, coaxing your legs even wider and pulling apart your swollen lips once again, showing you the untouched part of yourself you've never seen before, "How else are you gonna learn if you can't see, babygirl?"
You nod slowly, watching as he spreads you wide. You bring your eyes up to his face in the mirror to see the way he's watching you. His eyes are dark and lustful, hair still tousled from the early morning, scruff thick and scratchy against your neck and shoulder. He follows your gaze and peers into your eyes in the mirror, pulls you wider; you squirm a bit and close your eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed at the sight.
"You're shy, arent you?" he whispers, a smile in his voice.
"I've just... I've never..." you shake your head, opening your eyes again to turn and look at him, forgetting about the mirror for a moment, "No one's ever looked at me like this before."
He smiles softly at you, somehow tender and fond despite the part of him that clearly wants to devour you, corrupt you. He takes one hand and brings it to your chin, tilts your face up to his and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, gentle and soft. You kiss him back, eyes closing as you slowly breathe him in, feel his beard rub tantalizingly against your cheek.
"You've done that before, haven't you?" he asks you once he pulls away, finger still on your chin as he looks deep into your eyes, "You've been kissed?"
You nod but bite your lip, "Yes, but...not like that."
He tilts his head, "Like what?"
"Like they really want me," you whisper, eyes falling to his lips and silently wishing he'll do it again, "Like they're not holding back."
Almost like he can read your mind, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours once again, this time gently easing his tongue inside your mouth. You take it openly, loving the way he pushes it against yours, smooth and wet. He tastes like coffee; it's pleasant and warm and you're so distracted by the kiss that you don't realize he's taken his hand from your chin and moved it back to your pussy, carefully sliding his index finger beyond your lips and stroking upward.
Your hips buck immediately, still kissing him hard and loving the way he doesn't pull back, doesn't slow things down or even speed things up, just keeps it to your comfort level, lets you decide what the kiss is. You moan against his mouth when you feel the callus on the tip of his index rub lightly against a particularly sensitive spot. It's only then that you feel you need to pull away for breath, leaving your forehead pressed against his and letting out a long exhale.
"You really needed that, didn't you?" he murmurs softly, calm and gentle, "My babygirl needs to be touched so bad, doesn't she?"
You nod frantically, opening your eyes again, "Please, Mr. Miller," you breathe shakily, "Please make me feel good."
He groans again, closes his eyes and pushes himself up into you; you can suddenly feel something very hard beneath your dress and you're not entirely uneducated; you know exactly what it is. Out of curiosity you grind down a bit on him and he presses his lips to your neck again, humming against the skin.
"That's my cock, you know that right?" he breathes, "You ever felt a cock, sweetheart? Even through someone's clothes?"
You shake your head, feeling that familiar nervousness in the pit of your stomach at the thought. He must sense your uneasiness because he immediately pulls himself up a bit, pushes you forward so you're not seated directly on top of the hard shape of him anymore.
"Don't worry about that, today's lesson is about you," he says soothingly, stroking your pussy again and making you tremble, "I'm gonna teach you how to come, okay?"
You inhale shakily, feeling slightly relieved; it's not that you don't want to see his cock - God knows you really do - but you're so inexperienced, you really have no idea what you're doing. You feel excited - and kind of touched, in a way - that Joel is going out of his way to teach you exactly what you've been missing, things you've only heard about. Today's lesson....it repeats in your mind as you watch him touch you in the mirror, thumbing your lips wide; does that mean there'll be more?
"Okay, babygirl, here's what we're gonna do," he murmurs, breaking you away from your thoughts. "See this lil' nub right here?" You nod, peering in the mirror at the tiny hooded bump Joel is lightly prodding, sending a buzzing electricity throughout your body, "That's your clit, she's the most sensitive part of your pussy."
"I knew that," you breathe "I think."
He smiles at your reply, "You're gonna touch your clit, that's all you're gonna do. Just touch it and rub it until you feel yourself gettin' close," he moves his hand up to palm your stomach, "You'll feel it right here, in your belly. You'll know it's comin'."
"Okay," you whisper, nodding again.
"When you feel it buildin' in there, you tell me, and I'll make you come."
"And coming...that means..." you wince at your stupidity, "That's an orgasm, right?"
"Yes, darlin'," he murmurs; his face is suddenly blocked by your face as he kisses the back of your neck but you swear you can hear him smile, "That's an orgasm. I'm gonna give you your first orgasm, that sound good?"
"Yes," it's almost a squeak, desperate and shaky. You watch in the mirror as Joel takes your right hand and carefully brings it to your pussy, extends your index finger alongside his own and gently presses down, "Oh," you whimper, hips bucking again, "Oh."
"You're okay," he reminds you softly, prodding your finger harder against yourself, "It's just like the guitar, you gotta be firm."
It feels incredible, both yours and Joel's fingers tapping the tiny bundle of nerves with a steadiness you know is only possible because of him. Without his guidance you probably would have already dropped your hand, overwhelmed by the sensation.
"And now you rub," he explains softly, thumb and pinky curling around your other fingers as he holds your index steady, rubs it back and forth against your clit. Your mouth pops open, eyes going hazy again as you watch his movements in the mirror, "There you go," he whispers, and you catch him watching your expression, the pure bliss in your eyes as he makes you feel something you've never felt before, "Good girl, sweetheart, that's it."
"Oh my God," you breathe, aware that you probably shouldn't be taking the Lord's name in vain at a moment like this, but somehow the act feels almost godly in itself, a sensation of pure pleasure that you've never felt before travelling all throughout your body, "It feels- oh my God."
"Tell me," Joel breathes behind you, still holding your hand and letting you slowly start to rub yourself on your own, taking the lead, "Tell me how it feels, baby."
"It's- it's so good," you whine, tossing your head back against his shoulder, "Mr. Miller," you shake your head frantically, "I feel it already, Mr. Miller, in my stomach."
He seems genuinely surprised at that, eyebrows raising in the mirror, "Okay, babygirl," he whispers, "Lemme make you come."
He removes your hand, places it on your thigh. Without any hesitation you bring it up to grip his arm, holding it tightly as he brings his own hand back down to your pussy and starts to rub your clit again, this time at his own pace. Your jaw drops, eyes rolling back as he stimulates you perfectly, finger stroking back and forth at a pace that sends a wet squelching sound throughout the quiet room. You can't even feel embarrassed, too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being touched.
You can't see the mirror anymore, head tilted back so far against Joel's body that you're just staring at his ceiling, mouth open wide as numerous loud and completely uncharacteristic sounds blare from your mouth, long and high and indiscernible.
"That's it," he groans in your ear, a deep rumble that urges you on as he continues to rub you furiously, "There you go, there you go. Fuck, babygirl, give it to me. Fuckin' give it to me."
His words send you over the edge and you feel yourself stiffen in his lap, legs shaking uncontrollably as you writhe within his grasp. He slows his movements, coaxes you through it, continues to whisper praises in your ear as you have your very first orgasm in his arms. Your chest is heaving with exertion as you cry out, tears stinging your eyes.
"Mr. Miller," you whimper, closing your eyes and letting him hold you tight, your grip loosening on his arm, "Mr. Miller." It's like a prayer, the way his name rolls off your tongue. Not even an hour has passed since you first stepped foot in his house and you're already prepared to make Joel Miller your new God, kneel before him and give thanks for everything he's just done for you.
"Shhh," he coos, removing his fingers and letting you relax into his embrace, "You're alright, I've got you."
You continue to whimper and shake, vaguely aware of him slowly beginning to lay flat against the edge of the bed, taking you with him. You lay on top of him, breathing heavily.
"So good," you whisper, voice positively wrecked from what he's just done, "Felt so good."
"I know," he murmurs back, kissing your hair again and wrapping his arms around your middle, "I know, baby."
"M'gonna fall asleep," it's barely a whisper now, quiet and relaxed, "Sorry." You don't last long enough to hear what he says in response.
--
You wake a bit later, confused for a moment when you open your eyes and are greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling. It's only when you look down at yourself and see Joel's duvet wrapped around you that it comes flooding back. You smile unconsciously, inhaling his scent and turning to bury your nose in his pillow. Everything smells like him now, including you.
You glance over at the clock on his bedside table: 12:04PM. You slept for a solid two hours. It doesn't surprise you, not after the shitty sleep you had last night and the absolutely ridiculous orgasm he gave you right before you drifted off, but still....two hours? And he didn't wake you?
You sit up slowly, squinting at the afternoon sun flooding through the blinds on his window. You swear you can hear some faint music coming from somewhere, a stereo nearby? A car passing? Then, your eyebrows shoot up as you fling yourself out of bed and run to the window, opening it up and peering down at the patio below.
Joel is sitting on his front step again, wearing different clothes now; he must have showered after you'd fallen asleep...probably took care of himself as well. The thought makes you shiver but you push it away, instead focusing on the lovely sounds emanating from his guitar, a slow and gentle tune that instantly relaxes you.
You pull back from the window and face the mirror nearby, assessing yourself. You're still the same person you were a few hours ago but something is different; your hair is a mess, makeup smudged, dress disheveled. With a bit of hesitance you slowly pull up the hem and expose yourself, eyeing yourself down there where Joel had touched you. You find that it doesn't make you as nervous to look at it now, unable to help the small smile that appears on your face when you remember the way Joel had worshipped it mere hours ago.
The memory of Joel has you leaving his bedroom quickly, descending the stairs in his house and walking into the open living space once again. You spot your hoodie on the couch and grab it, zipping it back on as you search for your panties; they're nowhere to be found. Your brow furrows as you pull up a few of the couch cushions but come up emptyhanded.
You smooth your dress down; it's long enough that it doesn't show you're not wearing underwear, but you'll probably have to hold it down when you walk home. The last thing you want is to expose yourself to one of your elderly neighbors.
You take a few deep breaths and walk to the front door, readying yourself to face the man who just gave you the best experience of your life. As soon as you open it he turns on the step, still playing his relaxing tune and looking you up and down.
"Hi," you breathe, a little shy, playing with your hands a bit as you walk toward him.
"Hi, babygirl," he says with a kind smile, nodding to you, "Sleep good?"
"Yeah," you reply, shuffling over and settling down beside him on the step, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep for so long."
He smiles again, tilts his head, "You can sleep in my bed as long as you want, darlin'. Any time."
You feel your skin burn, looking down at your bare knees and biting your lip. He keeps playing the song, humming to himself as he does it; it's not a tune you recognize but that doesn't matter, just listening to him play is enough to make you feel warm and fuzzy.
There it is, you think to yourself, the attachment. It's already starting.
You look up at him again, smiling fondly at his look of concentration as he strums steadily. Your gaze falls to his fingers on the neck of the guitar and you swallow, remembering all too well where exactly they've been. The song finishes on a long and sweet note, positive and lovely. You can't help but playfully clap for him, grinning when he rolls his eyes and lays the guitar behind him.
"What song was that?" you ask, eyes bright as he peers over at you.
"Aha, Take on Me," he replies with a smirk, "Never heard that one?"
You shake your head.
"Wow, you really are just a kid, aren't you?" he murmurs, giving you another once-over before he turns back to look at the street, still pretty empty. Your brow furrows at his words, suddenly unsure.
"Is that...does that bother you?" you ask hesitantly.
He turns back to you and immediately shakes his head, "Not at all, sweetheart. Just means I have a lot more to teach you."
Your skin tingles at that and you feel yourself throb uncomfortably against his wooden step. You look down at yourself, making a face.
"What is it?"
"I'm already..." you shake your head, feeling embarrassed, "It's... I'm wet again."
"Jesus," he groans, almost laughing as he tilts his head back and looks over at you with a wide grin, "Don't say that to me, babygirl. Not when you gotta head home."
You look at him, confused, "I do?"
He nods, frowning slightly, "Your momma drove down the street about ten minutes ago, figure she'll probably be wonderin' where you are."
You sigh exasperatedly, rolling your eyes, "I'm so sick of living with my parents. I can't wait to go back to college."
"Poor baby," he says softly, "C'mere." He pats his knee and you go to sit on it but freeze, assessing the street.
"What if someone sees?" you ask quietly, unsure.
He seems to think for a second, then nods and takes your hand. He helps you stand up and leads you quickly into the foyer of his house again, shutting the door and wrapping his arms tightly around you.
"Mmmm," he hums into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "You smell so sweet, darlin'."
"I smell like you," you whisper back, unable to hold back your grin, "I smell like...sex."
He holds you tighter and pulls back to look at you, tilting your chin up and leaning down to kiss your lips. It's soft and unhurried; he still tastes like coffee, bittersweet and delicious,
"You come back here any time you want, okay?" he murmurs against your lips, "I mean it, any time. But especially when that pussy's wet and achin' for me. I'll give her what she needs, babygirl."
You shiver and lean up to capture his mouth again, nodding through the kiss and whispering, "I will, Mr. Miller."
--
You walk home quickly, holding your dress down and feeling more rebellious than you've ever felt in your life whenever the warm summer breeze ruffles past the fabric and onto your bare pussy, reminding you that you're not wearing any panties. They're lost somewhere in Joel's house; the thought gives you butterflies.
Your mother is bustling around in the kitchen when you get home, putting away groceries. She's distracted enough that she doesn't notice when you slip past the kitchen and head upstairs to change your clothes.
After showering - something you desperately didn't want to do but had to - you change into a more modest outfit and retreat back down the stairs, walking into the kitchen so your mom knows you're back.
"Oh, where were you?" she asks, chopping up a carrot on a cutting board in front of her, barely looking up, "Did you meet up with Bethany? Alice?"
Oh shit, you hadn't thought of a cover story, "Uh, yeah, met up with both of them."
"Lovely," she replies with a smile, finishing chopping and turning to look at you, "And they're well?"
"Yep," you nod, hopefully not too much, "I, uh, might be helping out at the soup kitchen soon."
Your mother claps her hands together and walks toward you, "Oh, I'm so happy to hear that," she suddenly furrows her brow, looking at your face with slight confusion, "Are you alright, dear?"
"O-oh, just... just warm from my shower."
She smiles and nods, turning away from you again, "Could you help me chop some veggies? I'm making soup tonight, might be good practice for when you're volunteering."
"Yeah, sure. No problem."
You reach up and touch your face one last time, feeling the heat still etched beneath your skin that you know for a fact is certainly not from your shower. You take one last steadying breath, then walk forward to help your mother.
You come back here any time you want, Joel's voice echoes in the back of your mind. You start to wonder how long you'll be able to last, but you already know the answer.
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dollishbabess · 2 months ago
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Hi! Could I ask for headcanons of Damian and a reader that’s trying to befriend him? Like, they’re dating one of his brothers and are just trying to bond with him.
Hope you’re having a good day!
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“DO YOU EVER SHUT UP??” ── .✦ dollish
A/n: this is actually creativee, and ty ofc you too, I was eating a burger while making this so correct any mistakes in your head pls
(Platonic!)
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Sibling Rivalry You start off with the best intentions of being a good sister-in-law, but every time you try to engage with Damian, he challenges you to a duel. “You wish to be my sister-in-law? Prove your worth!” You look around a bit confused “How about proving your worth by helping me cook dinner instead?” You say a bit weirded out by this “king” act He reluctantly agrees but still insists on holding a sword while stirring the pot just in case this is an attempt on his life.
"Are You My New Mother?" Damian finds it strange to have a sister-in-law. One day, while you're helping him with his homework, he looks up and asks, “Are you my new mother?” You burst out laughing, saying, “No, I’m just your super cool sister-in-law! Way cooler than anybody else!” He narrows his eyes, “You are not as cool as you think, Do you have body dysmorphia or do you need a mirror?” He says side eyeing you.
Cooking Disaster You decide to bond with him by cooking dinner together. However, your culinary skills are questionable at best. After an hour in the kitchen, you both emerge covered in flour, and the kitchen is a disaster zone. Damian looks at the charred remains of what was supposed to be lasagna and says, “I think I preferred it when you didn’t come into my life.”
Pet Therapy Gone Wrong You asked dick what Damian liked best and dick said animals so you try to bond by bringing home a puppy, hoping it would melt his icy demeanor. Instead, the puppy jumps all over him, and he ends up on the floor with the dog licking his face. He exclaims, “This creature is trying to assert dominance! This is unacceptable L/N .” You laugh, “Well, it’s working. You look pretty helpless right now!”
Shopping Spree You decide that every good sister-in-law should go shopping with damian, If the dog didn’t work maybe a bit of shopping would. You take him to a mall and try to get him to try on some casual clothes. He glares at the store employees like they’ve offended his entire bloodline every time they suggest something. You end up with a pair of socks that have cats on them, and he’s stuck with a beanie that has a giant “D” on it. “This is not acceptable,” he mutters, but you can see he’s secretly amused.
The millennial core jokes..the problem with dating dick is you get infested with millennial jokes and start acting like the millennials you used to laugh at. “Hey, Damian, why did the Batmobile cross the road?”, he clearly cringes and then scowls. “I do not know.” “To get to the other side!” He rolls his eyes, muttering, “You are truly old.” You beam at him, “And yet, I can still fit in! Skidbi or whatever you guys say!”
Movie Night You invite him to a movie night, thinking it’s a great way to bond. You choose a romantic comedy, and he looks horrified. “This is not a movie! It is an abomination.” You insist, “Just watch it! It’s supposed to be funny.” Halfway through, he’s making sarcastic comments and you realize he’s getting into it, even if he pretends not to enjoy it.
Unintentional Matchmaker You try to set him up with your niece who’s around the same age as him, Thinking it would help him socialize. He turns up with the girl and they’re both awkwardly silent, prompting you to burst out laughing. “Are you two plotting a wedding or just not talking?” He glares, “It is not a marriage proposal!” but you can see the faintest hint of a blush.
Baking Lessons You attempt to teach Damian how to bake cookies, claiming it’s a “sisterly bonding experience.” He takes it very seriously, reading the recipe as if it’s a sacred text. When the cookies turn out slightly burnt, he deadpans, “This was clearly an attempt on my life.” You retort, “Nah, they’re just crunchy a new trend.” You take a bite almost chipping your tooth. “Mhm! Mmm yummy……” Damian raises an eyebrow at you. “Your not enjoying it.”
The Ultimate Test Finally, you declare a “Prankster challenge” where you both try to outdo each other in ridiculous antics. You prank Dick together, try to scare Alfred (didn’t work), and end with an epic pillow fight. When it’s over, both of you are exhausted, lying on the floor. Damian sighs dramatically, “I suppose you are not the worst sister-in-law one could have although you are questionably clueless .” You grin, “And you’re not the worst little brother-in-law either!”
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── .✦ My brain is FINISHEDDDD so sorry if this is so wrong 😭😭
Second divider @cafekitsune
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giuliettagaltieri · 11 months ago
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Cup of Warm Tea
Pairing: Husband!Gojō x Wife!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: Gojō Satoru is a manchild.
Warning: arranged marriage, implied jujutsu society stigma
Word Count: 924
5 of 9
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Gojō Satoru never woke up with anybody next to him in all his life.  Even in his escapades at his age of curiosity, he never stayed long.  He was never fond of bedding anybody too often in the first place.  The guilt ate him up despite him never agreeing to your betrothal.
Yet now, he wakes up to you every single morning.
Your back always turned to him, never crossing the boundaries set between you.  Your hair against your pristine white pillows.  The soft rise and fall of your shoulders.  Even whimpering from time to time, making him cover your goosebump covered arm with the warm blanket.
The first time he woke up to such a sight, he did not know what to do, so he stared at your form until you woke up.  He was fascinated in watching you go about your morning, until you wake him up with tea and fresh clothing for the day.
His morning continues with him listening to your plans for the day as you head to the dining area where you will share your breakfast.
And you will kiss his cheek goodbye as he heads out for work.
The same routine goes on for weeks.
Day by day, he notices how your appearance changes too.
More and more, your clothing starts to have more of the fabric that is blue in color.
And the layers kept adding up.
He was wrapping the bandage over his eyes one morning as he observed how you put your hair up with pins embedded with sapphires and paraiba tourmaline.
“I’m surprised that you can still move, dragging an entire fabric store.”
You give him a small smile.
“It is customary.”  You replied.
He chooses not to say anything after that.  But not even an hour after he left for work, you received a gift from your husband.  It was a wooden fan.
You never go without it from then on.
The women in the Gojō estate made it their mission to hone you to perfection.  Not that they had more to teach you.  You were already well taught.
You spend your day reading.  Or embroidering, to make the elders happy.
The estate house was big.  Much ground for you to explore.  Your new and old handmaidens gladly accompany you in your walks. 
In one of your afternoon teas, you are surprised to see a familiar mop of unruly hair.
It was one of the children your husband had adopted in his youth.
“Megumi.”  You call sweetly.  The young teen boy stops in his tracks, his muttering coming to a halt and his deep frown clearing away to make way for confusion.
“Gojō-san.”  He says unsurely.
Your smile widens as you beckon him close.  “‘Y/N-san’ is still fine.  What brings you here?”
He looks at the small parcel in his hand.  “Uhm…running errands for Gojō-sensei.”
You pat the seat next to you.  “Do you mind if I take up a bit of your time today?”
He shakes his head and sits next to you, his hand sneakily slips the parcel in his pockets.
“Tea and cookies?”  You pour him a cup anyway.
“Thanks.”  He says curtly and sips on his cup.  “Congratulations on your marriage.”
You smile brightly at him.  No matter how big he got, you still see him as the same little boy that Gojō took in.
It was not often that you saw the boy and his older sister, but given that you were the fiancée of the man who took care of them, you kind of bribed them with treats to get them to like you.  You were only a teenager then, you did not know any better.
Megumi, ever so perceptive that he was, saw through your tricks but appreciated your efforts nonetheless, knowing that you meant well.  Also, because you got him out of trouble when he needed a guardian to see the guidance counselor.
Gojō would have picked a fight with the school staff, you were the safer option.
“Enjoying school?”  You ask as you spread marmalade on a piece of pastry and add it on a stack on his plate.
He shrugs. “I guess so.  Met a bunch of weirdos but otherwise okay.”
“Is Gojō-sensei behaving himself?  He’s not giving you much trouble?”
Megumi does not know how to answer that.  He thinks you got the question the other way around.
He quietly sips on his tea and puts the cup on the saucer with a soft clink.
You wait for his response patiently.
“Are you certain he did not threaten you so you’d marry him, Y/N-san?  You are too good for that man.  I swear I’d try to talk to the council to-”
An arm finds itself on Megumi’s shoulder.
“What sort of nonsense are you spouting to my wife, Megumi.”  Gojō clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment.
Megumi leans on his chair and sips on his tea like nothing happened.  “Thank you for the tea, Y/N-san.”  He fishes the parcel from his pocket and slams it to Gojō’s chest.  “That thing you requested.”  He says through gritted teeth.
Gojō smiles childishly at him.  “Thanks, Megumi.  I know I can count on you.”  He slips it to his own pocket and Megumi says his farewell.
Knowing that it is not your business to ask, you turn to your own cup of tea.
Your husband sits on the chair that Megumi vacated, only he drags the chair closer to you until your elbows bumped and then proceeds to gobble up the pastry that you prepared for Megumi.  You hid the slight annoyance you felt and instead just poured him tea into a new cup.
Gojō chokes on a scone and he slams a fist to his chest as you slap at his back but a second later, he was shoving a Danish puff on his mouth.
You shake your head at him, smiling at his display of behavior.  Despite knowing the man all your life, he never ceases to appall…er, astound you.
“So, we had this new kid in Jujutsu High.”  He says in between chews and you nod at him to continue, wiping at the marmalade that smeared on his lips.
Your entire afternoon was spent listening to Gojō’s rambles and gossip in the jujutsu society and you would not spend your time any other way.
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Where the Blue Roses Grow
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monimccoythings · 9 months ago
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Random headcanons of Alastor and his child!reader
This will mix headcanons from both the living and the afterliving times.
Tw: Controlling behavior, implied cannibalism, references to murder.
This is not proof read so I apologize for any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.
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Your home is always filled with music. Be it the radio, a record player or him singing. There's always someone playing a tune. Even now at the hotel you can always find him in one of the common rooms humming a song or with his cathedral radio on.
Loves dancing with you, you'll be helping him cook and next thing you know he is swirling you around the room, music mixing with your combined laughter.
From a very young age, he will teach you to love the radio. He is immensely proud of his job (the legal one) and wants to share it with you.
Likes to treat your wounds and illness the traditional way, just like he used to when you were alive. You got a scratch? He is cleaning it for you and bandaging it up. You are down with something? He'll wrap you in blankets with a hot water bottle and feed you old family remedies and warm soup. If the wound or illness is way too severe to his liking, he will immediately make it go away with a snap of his fingers, otherwise he just likes to act like your caregiver and mother hen you.
Really loves to pull the 'single hardworking dad' act that makes the mothers and female teachers at your school swoon. He is not really interested in pursuing anything further with them, but boy, does he enjoy the attention.
He likes to check on you while you are sleeping. Sometimes he just stays there, quietly watching you sleep, his ever present smile growing bigger as a sense of pride fills his chest.
Lots of dad jokes, I think he's the only one who could pull it off and have everyone laugh. It goes with his radio host charisma and personality.
He does your hair. This man has singlehandledly researched and become well versed in the art of braiding hair. Braids, pigtails, or just brush it, you call it, you got it.
Alastor loves control and having power over people, he is the kind of dad that will subtly talk you out of doing something he doesn't approve of, just using his inmense charms and smooth talking skills to convince you into thinking this was your decision after doing some critical thinking. "Cher, I don't think you should do X, how about you do Y instead?" "I'm sure your friend is too busy to hang out today, why don't we go to the ice cream shop?" He won't ever put you down or make you feel bad about anything, but if you are deviating for the path that he has already set for you (the safe path) he will immediately persuade you to go back to the right way, his way. In Hell that aspect of him has become a million times worse, since he has already lost you once and has become someone with many dangerous enemies who wouldn't hesitate to use you to get back at him. His overprotectiveness and controlling behavior skyrocket when he becomes a demon, which eventually will come back to bite him in the ass.
Doesn't like having anyone question about your biological parents. He is your parent. You don't need anybody else.
Alastor is not fond of physical affection, unless he is the one initiating it. But, since he has had you since you were a baby, he has mostly grown used to your touch. He has become proficient enough in detecting your moods that he knows exactly when you are going to need a hug, a kiss or some other kind of physical comfort, so he can get ahead and start the contact first. He admits that one of his favorite ways nowadays to show affection to you is ruffling your fluffy hair, lightly tickling your ears, his eyes fill with joy when your ears get all twitchy.
Your room back at the hotel is a carbon copy of the one you had back when you were alive, but bigger, and with a private old timey bathroom. Alastor likes to come in whenever he pleases, he is the unliving embodiment of "I'm respecting your privacy by knocking but asserting my authority as your parent by coming in anyway". He even said so once. Word by word.
You can't stand Mimzy. Sorry, it's a fact, she always gets your name wrong and only comes by if she needs something from your dad. She seems to not be very fond of you either, can't understand why in Hell Alastor would waste his time so willingly just to take care of a snooty brat that ain't even his. But your father seems to like her enough, so you swallow up your critics.
When he was alive, and came back from a 'hunt', he always brought a little memorabilia for you, maybe some old watch, a fancy toy or trinket the victim had on them at that moment. Whatever little thing that wasn't too incriminating and pretty enough to be worthy of you. Now that you know the truth, you can't stop wondering with dread if every little thing he gifts you belonged once to a poor tormented soul that crossed in his path.
Might had fed you human remians in his stews. He utterly denies it, claiming that he would never do that to your delicate stomach. But the suspicious way his eyes quickly dart around the room, makes you think otherwise. It was the Great Depression after all, food was scarce. You'd rather not dwell too much on it or you will never eat anything ever again.
He is a monster, and it pained you to have been so blind all these years, but even after discovering his true nature, the only thing you could say about his parenting before that terrible night of the discovery, was that he was an excellent dad, a tad bit overbearing and overprotective, but a great parent nonetheless.
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talaok · 1 year ago
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hi!!! request for joel being readers first kiss. He won’t go any further than kissing but they have a LOT of fun kissing
thx
post outbreak jackson pls
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Warnings: very brief talk of some sexual themes at the end, but the rest is... you guessed it, kissing!
a/n: 1000/10 idea i literally blushed when you sent it. idk about the execution tho
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You were so incredibly embarrassed when you told him, when you finally had to confess that you had no experience, and by that I mean really none, absolutely zero.
But then again what could he have expected?
perhaps he knew right from the moment he set eyes on you, and perhaps... perhaps he liked it.
It oozed from your every pore... your innocence, it was in the way you couldn't meet his gaze, in the way you shivered when his hand grazed against your arm, in the shyness in your voice... it was in everything... it was all of you.
But he nicked at it, piece by piece, brick by brick, he had gotten to know you... maybe a little too much.
He had realized at one point, too late he'd grow to admit, that he liked you, really liked you, in a way he hadn't experienced in ages, in a way that made him feel sixteen all over again.
And yes you were young... much too young for him, and yes you were complete opposites, him, a rough man with enough blood on his hands to make a serial killer's skin crawl, and you, you a pretty little thing who'd lived her whole life in Jackson, safe from the atrocities of the real word... but still, still he he couldn't stop his old heart from beating faster when he was with you.
And that's why one day, one cold, windy day, as snow fell to the ground and you held onto his arm as if it was a life jacket, while he walked you back home, he couldn't do anything but tell the truth.
"Joel" you had said right outside your front door.
"yes sweetheart?" he asked, watching your pretty face fill with dread
"Joel I... I like you"
You'd told him so casually, so simply, that for a moment he wondered if he had imagined it.
But you had misinterpreted his pause all wrong
"I-I'm sorry nevermind, pretend I didn'-"
"no, no I'm sorry" he shook his head, forcing himself out of his trance "You said you like me darlin'?" he asked, taking a step closer to you so he was right there before you, looking down at the gorgeous girl who'd just made all his wishes come true.
"mh-mh" you nodded shily
And at that, he smiled, placing a hand on your reddening cheek, as his thumb gently stroked it
"well then we're in luck" he'd murmured "cause I happen to like you too sweetheart" he promised "a lot"
"r-really?" Your eyes sparked with joy
"of course baby" he breathed, bending down to meet his lips with yours instinctively before your voice stopped him
"wait-" you said
"oh, I'm sorry, I'm going too fast"
"n-no you're not it's just that..."
it was getting harder to meet his gaze again
"if you wanna wait that's ok, sweetie"
"n-no I don't wanna wait, Joel, it's just that-"
"what is it?"
A loud sigh left your mouth before you could respond
"I've never... I've never kissed anybody"
His mouth fell open slightly at the confession, but he recovered quickly, now both his hands holding your pretty face.
"oh" he breathed "that's ok sweetheart, we can wait"
"no I want to kiss you Joel, I really really do... but- but I'm scared I won't be... good at it"
"oh baby" he couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle "You'll be great at it, don't you worry"
Your heart was racing and your breathing hitched as you looked up into his hazel eyes
"do you think- do you think you could... teach me?"
Now Joel Miller didn't deem himself a romantic, but the way you said that... the way you gazed dreamily and both anxiously into his eyes as you spoke those words... he had to stop a moment to thank whoever was up there for having allowed him to meet you.
"of course I can" he said
"yeah?"
"there's nothing I'd like more baby"
And that was it, you were smiling like a kid in a candy store
"s-so what do I do?"
His hands were still on your face, holding you in a way that made your knees weak
"just follow my lead, I'll go slow, don't worry"
You nodded at that, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours and you were- you were giving your first ever kiss.
You got up on your tiptoes and held onto his arms as you closed your eyes and got lost in the feeling- and wow- you had only read in books about it and seen it in a couple of the movies they showed in Jackson, but this... this was just amazing, it felt like you were dreaming, like you had ascended to another universe.
He had kept his promise, he did go slow, but it felt heavenly for him too nonetheless.
He leaned away after what was probably an eternity, to look back at you and confirm this was all real
"so?" he asked, "how was it?"
You couldn't help but giggle as you almost jumped out of your skin from the happiness.
"good" you grinned "very very good"
"mmmhh" he hummed, moving one of his hands to your waist to bring you closer to him "'s that right"
"yeah" you breathed so lowly he wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been an inch away from your face
"well I'm glad" he smirked, kissing you on the cheek this time "Hopefully we'll do that again then"
"yes please" 
He chuckled at that, not leaning away
"would you like a goodnight kiss?"
Not a split second passed that you had already answered
"yes" you nodded, leaning up already "yes please"
And that was how it all started.
That was the night you found your true calling... kissing, and not only that, but kissing Joel Miller.
God, there was nothing better than it,
feeling his beard stroke your cheek, the way his strong hands held you as he did, the way he tasted, the way his warmth spread all over your body, it was all just... perfect
And the coolest thing was that when he said he was gonna teach you, he meant it.
Who knew there were so many ways you could kiss someone?
There were the French kisses, the kisses on the neck, the "special kisses" aka hickeys you loved giving him and that he loved pretending not to like, then the kisses standing up, laying down, and your personal favorite: kissing him while sitting on his lap, and then of course as time went on you both found out (although him especially) how much fun it was to kiss in public, at the bar, on patrol, you name it, it didn't matter, what mattered was that his lips were on yours and his arms were around you (and even if he would have never admitted it, he loved it because he loved showing everyone you were his, and he was yours).
If it were up to you, you'd spend your whole life like that, diving your fingers into his hair as his hands explored every inch of your body, your face, your hips, your ass, your belly (above clothes of course), making you shiver and whimper with every movement.
But it was only just kissing, Joel made a promise to himself he was gonna wait, and it's not that he didn't want to go further, god only knew how many times his dick got hard just by giving you a chaste kiss on the lips as he felt your body pressed against his (and yes that did make him feel like a hormonal teenager again, but then again, everything about you did), so no it definitely wasn't that, and he didn't know if it was because he felt guilty or in some way, like he would be doing something wrong, but for now, all he knew was that he needed to wait, wait until he was sure you were sure about him, and about you.
And for now... for now, you were more than happy with it, counting down the seconds until you'd get a taste of him again.
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sansaorgana · 1 year ago
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— A BETTER PERSON
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PAIRING — Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader
SUMMARY — Erik struggles with accepting the fact that his son is not a mutant.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hi, it's me again 😂 This fic can be read as a part two of THIS FIC but doesn't have to be at all. It contains some fighting between Erik and Reader but I promise it all ends well! 💗 Reader’s mutation is NOT specified (as much as it was possible).
WORD COUNT — 3,930
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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A BETTER PERSON
“No,” Erik stood up and clenched his fists to stop himself from using his mutation powers against Charles. “I do not agree,” he stated more calmly now.
“Anybody else?” Charles looked past him at the other teachers sitting inside his office.
No one else said anything, though.
“I’m sorry, Erik, you’ve lost,” Charles smirked at him.
“Fine then,” your husband clenched his jaw. “If you want to let the non-mutant children in this school, I’m leaving. I won’t teach humans.”
“Don’t be too dramatic, Erik,” you stood up as well and put your hand on his shoulder. “We’re building something special here and you know it…”
“Yes, we are,” he snapped at you and pushed your hand away, “but he wants to ruin it,” he pointed at Charles. “This place is a safe space for the mutants. Humans have always been a threat.”
“Well, obviously, the ones who hate mutants won’t be welcome here,” Charles rolled his eyes. “Your wife is right, Erik. You’re overreacting.”
“Oh, really?” Erik tilted his head. “Because I’m sure you’re going to invite everyone here soon. People who are against us so they can know us better and realize we are the same. People who admire us so they can look at us from a closer angle. I am not an animal in the zoo, Xavier, and I certainly am not a lab rat. Never again.”
“Erik, it’s just only about avoiding segregation,” you sighed. “Do you really have to make a scene? We don’t even know yet if we’re going to get permission from the government… It’s just an idea.”
“I am not going to teach non-mutants. End of discussion. They’re not welcome here,” he drawled out and that was when you heard a noise behind the door. An echo of the familiar legs running away as quickly as possible down the corridor.
“Alex…”, you whispered and laid your eyes on Erik to give him a dirty look. “I hope you’re proud of yourself,” you snarled at him before running out of Charles’ office.
Your son was fast but he wasn’t extraordinarily fast and he was a child after all, so you caught him pretty fast. In fact, there was nothing extraordinary about him and he was already ten years old, which could only mean one thing that your husband refused to ever address. For Erik, Alex was just a late bloomer but he was the only person in the whole school who was thinking that.
Because the truth was, Xavier’s School already had a non-mutant student. And it was Erik Lehnsherr’s flesh and blood.
“Alex,” you grabbed your son’s shoulder and turned him around. His eyes were full of tears and his hands were shaking. It was breaking your heart to see him like that. “Alex, what were you doing there? It was a meeting for the teachers.”
“I wanted to f-find you,” he sniffled and rubbed his eyes. “Edie did it again…” he sobbed.
Edie was your second child, named after Erik’s mother. She was six years old and her mutant powers had recently started to show. One of her favourite activities was to tease her older brother. She couldn’t understand why he was always so upset instead of teasing her back. She inherited much more from her father than just his mutation.
“What did she do?” You sighed and fixed his ruffled hair.
“Locked me in my room,” he looked down, ashamed of the fact that he had been bullied by a little girl. “I couldn’t open it, she melted the lock.”
You sighed and pressed his head to your chest. Edie’s pranks were starting to get too cruel these days.
“I will talk to her,” you promised him and kissed the top of his head. “Now, about what your father said…” you brought up the topic and Alex burst into tears once again, pressing his face even deeper into the material of your sweater. “He didn’t mean you, love,” you didn’t know what else to say.
“Of course I didn’t,” Erik’s voice made you both turn around. He looked a bit uneasy and he was keeping a distance from you two. “Because you’re a mutant, Alex. You just need more time to figure it out,” your husband added.
“No, I am not!” Alex exclaimed dramatically and ran away again but this time you didn’t chase him. Instead, you approached your husband angrily.
“That was not what he needed to hear,” you drawled out. “What he needs to hear is that you love him nevertheless,” you explained and then you took a step back and furrowed your brow while staring deep into Erik’s bright eyes. He was staring back at you without a word. “Unless you… don’t,” you whispered before turning around and leaving him alone in the middle of the corridor.
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You didn’t look for Alex after that. You decided to give him some time to cry alone first and instead of that you focused on giving Edie a lecture. One of many and probably not the last one. You loved her, of course, just like you loved her father. But sometimes you wished she was… less like him. One Erik was enough to handle.
Speaking of him, he was avoiding you for the rest of the day and he seemed to be offended because he didn’t even want to talk to you. When you bumped into him, he didn’t say “sorry” or anything, he just walked on by.
During supper he sat next to you as usual but he kept talking to Raven sitting by his other side. You were playing with your food and watching Edie from the corner of your eye. She seemed to be very giddy and joyful. Too much for a girl who had been scolded by her mother for bullying her brother. She seemed to brag to one of the boys about what she had done earlier. You stopped looking at her and started to search for your son amongst the children by the long table.
“Where is Alex?” You asked out loud after realizing that he wasn’t there.
“Probably still crying in his room,” Edie shrugged her arms and you stood up loudly, making everyone wince at the sound of the squeaking chair.
“(Y/N), let him be,” Erik laid his eyes on you for the first time since morning. “Boys process such things differently.”
“No, they don’t,” you had to fight the urge to slap his face. How could he not even be worried? How could he allow Edie to be so insolent? “Now, if you excuse me, I need to find my son,” you informed everyone and walked out of the dining room to hurry upstairs.
Alex was a son of two teachers so he had the privilege of having his own room next to yours. Not so long ago he had been sharing it with Edie but since she had started to show off her powers they had to be separated. You knocked upon the door and waited for an answer but there was none.
“Alex, baby, open the door, please. It’s me, mummy,” you whispered but there was still no answer. “I’m walking inside, honey,” you pushed the door open.
The room was dark. You put the light on only to find the room empty and your heart skipped a beat at the realization that you had absolutely no idea where your son was.
Desperately, to be absolutely sure, you looked under the bed and inside the closet but he obviously wasn’t there. So you ran back downstairs, feeling like your heart would jump out of your chest any given moment. Your head felt heavy and your ears were ringing.
“He’s not in his room,” you announced after opening the door leading to the dining room with shaky hands. Everyone went silent and looked at you. Seeing your terrified face and trembling arms, they began to worry as well. Erik stood up from the table and approached you slowly.
“He… He’s not… He’s not there, Erik,” you struggled to catch your breath out of growing anxiety as you held onto his sleeve.
“Maybe he’s hiding in the garden,” he tried to calm you down but he began to look worried as well. “I’ll look for him.”
“I will help you,” Hank left the table, too.
“And me,” Raven joined them.
“Can we help as well?” One of the students asked.
“You can stay here and finish your meal,” Charles told him. “Unless any of you has any idea where Alex can be?” he asked but there was a dead silence from all the kids. “Alright then, you stay here. We are going to look for him. I’m sure he’s nearby,” he approached you and took your hand in his. “(Y/N), come with me,” he encouraged you and you nodded before following him outside. You felt like you were inside a bad dream.
“He has never done anything like that… He… He would always tell me everything…” you stuttered out. “He’s a clingy child… With me at least… That’s so unlike him to just… To just make me worry like that.”
“I’m sure Erik will find him,” Charles tried to calm you down and you both went outside where the rest of the adults had been looking for your son.
You could hear their voices calling out Alex’s name but you were too petrified to move and help them. You felt helpless. Ten minutes passed and there was apparently no sign of him still being around the mansion.
“He’s not here,” Hank walked up to you and Charles and shook his head. Erik followed him, paler than ever.
“When was the last time you saw Alex?” Your husband asked you.
“The same time you did,” you snapped at him. “I gave him some time after what you had said to him and it was my mistake. I should have gone after him and left that brat Edie to you.”
“Hey, hey,” Erik took a step back and put his arms in the air like he was giving up, “don’t take it out on me and certainly not on our daughter. Charles,” he looked down at his friend, “you can find Alex, right? You shouldn’t have a problem with that.”
“Well…” Charles sighed and hesitated for a moment, “I’m a telepath but it’s easier to connect with other mutants.”
“Excellent then,” Erik nodded.
“I’m going to try but considering the fact Alex is not a mutant…” Charles began again, less delicately this time.
“He is,” Erik protested, “come on, Xavier, you know that he is. We’ve talked about it, you were supposed to help him to find out what his mutation was. Just because you haven’t found it yet…”
“Wait, what?!” You interrupted him with a scream. It was the first time you had ever heard of it. 
“I tried but… Erik, there is really nothing there…” Charles explained but you didn’t let him finish. You approached your husband and pushed him away.
“Hey!” He exclaimed.
“Stay away!” You yelled. “It’s all your fault, stay away!”
“(Y/N), calm down. Charles needs to focus if you want him to find Alex,” Hank tried to put his arm around you but you pushed him away as well. Your anger and worry made your powers grow stronger and stronger with every minute.
“You’re so full of shit, Erik,” you could feel your whole body melting under the power of your own mutation. Your every nerve and every muscle was filled with anger. You could kill him with a snap of your fingers if you wanted to. “So, your son is a human. In a place like this, though, he is the outsider. He is the one needing protection here. And instead of doing what a father should do, you were pushing him, behind my back, arranging secret sessions with Charles… You… Can’t you see that what you’re doing isn’t far from what has been done to you?” you asked while walking slowly towards him. Those were rare moments to see Erik Lehnsherr genuinely scared of anyone but it was one of them. “He’s not a lab rat or a weapon. He’s a person. And all that boy has ever wanted was for you to love him. You have no idea how many times he’s been asking me about it. Does dad love me? And I have never been brave enough to tell him to ask you instead. Because I was scared of your answer. But now I know it,” you finished with your face only a few inches away from his.
“No, you don’t. You think you do but you don’t,” Erik whispered and swallowed thickly. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself, it was like he had known, deep down, that he deserved it. “You must be insane if you think I don’t love him,” his words were almost inaudible at this point; only for your ears to hear.
“Then act like it,” you drawled out.
“Mrs. Lehnsherr!” One of the children’s voices made you turn around. It was the boy Edie had been talking to earlier. You had noticed a few times that he quite liked to pick on your son as well whenever there was such an opportunity.
“What do you want?” You asked him rudely.
“I’m sorry I haven’t told you earlier…” he started as his voice broke. He looked scared and worried. “I know where Alex went… I saw him… I’m sorry, I should have said…” he started crying and you approached him quickly. “I’m so sorry…” he kept repeating.
“Stop apologizing and tell me where he is,” you grabbed him by his shoulders.
“(Y/N),” Charles raised his hand. He didn’t want you to be too rough with the students but you didn’t care. You wanted your son to be safe and back at home.
“I asked him where he was going… He told me he was running away to New York to get adopted by... normal people. I think he took the bus or something,” the boy sniffled.
“When was it?” You asked.
“Not long before supper.”
“He must be on the station or on that bus then,” you heard Erik’s voice. “I’m going,” he added and ran to the hangar to get one of the cars.
You wanted to stop him. To tell him that you should be there, too. But you were so heartbroken after what that student had told you that you couldn’t say a word. You couldn’t believe that your son wanted to be adopted by a different… normal family.
“Let’s go back inside,” you loosened the grip on the boy’s shoulders. “Thank you for telling me. You’ve done the right thing,” you added with a broken smile.
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It was almost two in the morning and everyone was asleep except for you and Charles. You were in the living room, waiting for Erik’s return. Edie was also there, she refused to go to her bedroom before seeing Alex again but she fell asleep with her head on your lap around eleven. You were playing with her hair to keep your hands busy. 
Apparently it had been her. She had noticed the other student’s odd behaviour and it had been her threatening him to tell you everything. She had been crying and shaking in your arms and blaming herself. But you weren’t angry with her anymore. She was only six years old and putting a blame on her would be unfair. It would only make her feel even worse. It had been Erik who should have known better. Not her.
“They’re back,” Charles whispered after hearing a car on the driveway.
“Both of them?” You asked, worriedly.
“Yes,” he closed his eyes for a moment, “I can sense them both.”
You sighed with relief and gently moved Edie’s head away from your lap to put it on the sofa’s cushion. Then you stood up and walked out to see Erik and Alex entering the mansion.
When you saw them, you froze for a moment because Alex was being carried by Erik in his arms.
“He’s asleep,” your husband informed you immediately. “He fell asleep on our way here,” Erik explained. “He’s fine,” he added and you nodded.
“You couldn’t just wait at the next bus stop, right?” Charles’ voice interrupted you from behind. He was looking at Erik with a smirk. He had just been looking through his memories to find out what had exactly happened. “You just had to dramatically stop the bus in the middle of the road?”
“Yes, in fact, I had to,” Erik drawled out at his friend, “because my son was in there.”
“Alex!” Edie ran up to you. Her hair was ruffled and her eyes were squinted – she was barely awake – but she had a big smile on her face. Her calling woke Alex up and he moved in Erik’s arms before yawning and looking down at his sister. “Alex!” She called once again and extended her hands towards him. Erik put the boy on the ground so his sister could give him a hug. “I’m sorry I locked you in your room!” She cried happy tears and squeezed her brother tighter.
“It’s okay…” Alex hugged her back.
“I will never do it again!” Edie squealed.
“Thanks…”
“And you?” You crossed your arms and looked at your son.
“I will never do it again either. I’m sorry, mum…” He avoided your eyes, ashamed and scared. You crouched down and hugged him as well to place a kiss on his forehead.
“I’m glad Alex is safe. I’ll leave you now,” Charles nodded his head and went away quietly.
“Where did you even get the money from? For the ticket?” You asked your son.
“From dad’s wallet…” Alex looked down but you laughed instead of scolding him.
“Guess how much he’s taken,” Erik smiled for the first time in hours and you shook your head. “A hundred.”
“A hundred?!” You let out a laugh and Edie giggled. “Alex, how much do you think a ticket to New York costs?”
“I didn’t know how much it would be! I was worried it wouldn’t be enough!” Alex explained and you burst into happy tears of joy and relief to have him back. You kissed his forehead again.
“What did you do with the change?”
“I bought some comic books at the station,” he pointed at his small backpack. “And a bag of chips in case I get hungry.”
“Priorities,” Erik hummed.
“It’s time to go to bed now,” you announced when the clock struck two. “We will talk about it tomorrow before breakfast,” you stood up and Alex nodded. You took him by his hand to take him to his bedroom. Erik picked little Edie up off the ground to carry her upstairs as well. She was so sleepy she looked like she’d fall asleep standing.
When both children were already in their beds, you went to your own bedroom in silence.
“What did you tell him?” You asked when the door closed behind Erik and you were the only awake people in the whole mansion at that hour.
“Well, at first everyone was scared of me, of course…” He started.
“Yeah, no kidding,” you rolled your eyes.
“I told the bus driver my son had run away from home and that he must be there. The guy pointed his finger at Alex immediately. Not many ten year olds travel on their own. I just took him to the car,” Erik explained and sat down on the bed to run his fingers through his hair. He was exhausted.
“So… you didn’t talk to him? You haven’t told him anything?” You were shocked.
“What was I supposed to…? Listen, I was fuming! He stole my money and ran away and he’s only ten! Imagine what he’s gonna be like in five years! Absolute nightmare! I was worried sick and I was angry, so I decided it would be for the best if I shut my mouth. I have a tendency of making everything worse when I speak,” he lowered his voice in the end and put his face in the palms of his hands.
“I was too harsh to you earlier,” you sat next to him and gently took his hands in yours to move them away from his face, “I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I was worried.”
“No, you were right,” Erik sighed and looked up to meet your gaze. “I was lying to myself and pushing him. It’s… I didn’t expect to have a human son. We are both powerful mutants, it shouldn’t have happened… Now all my beliefs and opinions and… And everything… It is being questioned. And it makes me feel uneasy,” he confessed but not without the visible struggle.
“Oh, Erik…” you sighed and cupped his face to caress his cheeks with your thumbs. “Perhaps boys really do process such things differently,” you chuckled.
“I’ve maimed and killed for the idea of mutants’ supremacy. If I abandon it now… What would that make me? A hypocrite. A traitor to the cause,” he clenched his jaw as a tear rolled down his cheek.
“It would make you a good father, Erik,” you wiped that tear with your thumb, “and that’s all that should matter. Also, people change. It’s a natural process. You’ve changed once already, after being hurt by Schmidt. Because before that you hadn’t been like this either,” you reminded him and a short silence occurred between you two.
“Why do you always have to be right?” he sighed and you laughed softly before leaning in to place a kiss on his forehead.
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When you went to Alex’s room in the morning, he was still asleep, which was not surprising after a night like that. You sat on the edge of his bed to caress your son’s hair and Erik opened his backpack to look at the comic books your son had bought.
“They’re about superheroes,” he noticed.
“Aren’t they all?” You asked.
“Mum…?” Alex opened his eyes slowly and covered his mouth to yawn before rubbing his eyes.
“Hey, sleepy head,” you greeted him softly. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” he sat up and extended his hands to give you a hug. You leaned in to put your arms around him and squeeze him tight.
“Your dad has something to tell you,” you said and moved back. Erik cleared his throat and sat next to you as Alex watched carefully while making big eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Erik started with an apology, which was quite unusual for him. “I’m sorry I made an impression that…” he hesitated. “No, it wasn’t making an impression. No more excuses. I’m sorry for pushing you into being a mutant. You are…” he sighed. “You are perfect the way you are because you are my son,” he finished. He had never expected to give such a talk to a non-mutant.
You felt tears forming in your eyes at his words and you squeezed Erik’s cold hand to give him more courage.
“But… I don’t have any cool superpowers,” Alex whined. “I wish I had.”
“Your superpower is being yourself and that’s enough,” Erik assured him. “And I’m sorry I haven’t seen it earlier. Even though you can’t defend yourself as well as me or your mum or your sister, I will never let anything bad happen to you,” he leaned in to give Alex a hug and pressed his son’s head to his chest. “You’re making me a better person and I was scared of that but I am not anymore. I love you.”
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